Behind the Rose Covered Fence
by whimsicalwombat
Summary: What if Samar's parents had never been killed, and Shahin had never turned against them? What if Aram's parents had never moved to the States before he was born? What if they grew up neighbours, family friends even, and Aram fell in love with her from the moment he realised he could see over the rose covered fence? And what if, all Samar wanted, was to leave for somewhere else?
1. The Beginning

_**A/N:**_ Ok, here we go. This is a story I finished up over on ao3 just recently, and I've just made the move over to ffnet as well. Forgive me if I mix a few things up, I'm still figuring out the differences in how to use the two sites :) I'm going to put this story up in its entirety now, and then slowly work on some of my others over the next couple of weeks, but if you want to see them in full you can just jump straight on over to my ao3 page. Details are in my profile.

Anyway. Some things about this story; it's _mostly_ fluffy, but it's rated M for Chapter 4 (some violence but only results in a minor injury) and Chapter 7 (mild smut). Individual chapters that require warnings will be marked accordingly (which is what I do for all my fics) and you're welcome to skip either or both if that content's not for you.

This is also an AU fic where both Samar and Aram are much younger and of course, far less traumatised than canon, so the same sort of personality is there but they're a lot more innocent and so on.

I hope you enjoy their adorable kidselves and adorkable teenselves! :)

* * *

 _ **1999**_

'No, you misunderstand,' he quickly interjected, his eyes pleading with her to listen. 'I'm not asking you to stay. I'm saying... What if I go with you?'

She paused, taking a short but sharp breath in as his words hit home.

A wave of emotions rushed over her; surprise, caution, fear and delight alike... But most of all, there was adoration.

'Are you sure?' She asked, her voice barely audible.

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1984**_

He was five when he first saw her. She was four. She was born in that house, and he was moving in next door.

He peered over the fence between their front gardens that was nearly as tall as he was, the fence that was covered in climbing red and white rosebushes that prickled his skin... But he didn't care. Not at first, anyway.

He was fascinated... Awestruck, even.

She danced about the front patch of grass between the flowerbeds, her little brother only just able to walk and eagerly follow her. She was barefoot, allowing the soft ground and grass to be felt under her toes, and she wore a long, flowing, dark blue tunic dress. Her hair was dark, curly and untamed, flying behind her in the light breeze as she moved. She was happy, and carefree in her innocence.

He remembers little from such early years, but he remembers that. He remembers thinking even at his young age, that she was beautiful.

And he's been in love with her ever since.

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1998**_

Aram had sat out in his mother's beloved back garden, reading to her from the latest book to have taken her fascination. She couldn't read beyond the basics, having not been allowed to receive much of an education in her youth, but still she loved stories... And she loved to hear her husband or son read them to her. Aram had delayed starting to read the latest chapter, however. He had delayed it with small talk until he saw out of the corner of his eye, that familiar shadow flash across the side fence and then settle, going very still.

That was when he started to read aloud; not at any of the times his mother almost teasingly asked if and why he was delaying it –with a curious expression as if in truth, she knew the answer but she was simply feigning ignorance for her son's benefit... But when Aram knew Samar was there, sitting in her usual place behind the fence in her own garden, and that she was listening too. Samar loved stories, just as Aram's mother did. The difference was that Samar did know how to read; she too, hadn't been allowed much of an education outside of home, but with the combination of her outspoken parents and discreetly sharing her brother's schoolbooks, she had still learned plenty at home.

Though it was Aram's voice she loved to hear. He had a way of bringing her favourite stories to life even more so than her imagination ever could.

Once the chapter came to its end and his mother returned inside, Aram waited for a moment. He waited to make sure his mother wasn't lingering just inside the door, watching him... And then he darted across the garden to the wooden fence. He sat down and crossed his gangly legs in the grass beside it, where he knew Samar was just on the other side... Where there was a small hole and a loose plank from an incident with a soccer ball when her little brother Shahin was only seven.

'You were late,' he murmured softly, leaning his head against the wooden planks. 'Mother kept asking me if I had lost my voice or something... I was worried there for a moment that I'd have to start without you.'  
'It's been a long day,' she sighed in response. Through the small hole in the planks, Aram caught a glimpse of her weary smile. She really did seem tired, but happy to sit there with him all the same. He smiled softly back; that point in the back fence was one they talked through nearly every day for years. It was where they developed their deeper friendship beyond their combined family dinners where their interactions were otherwise supervised, the one they were supposed to keep hidden... But it was that same friendship that they both treasured. It allowed them to speak without judgement, without fear of the town's ire that looked so harshly on their parents.. And most importantly, it allowed them each someone to confide in, whether they were supposed to or not.  
'Long, how?' Aram asked gently.  
'I argued with my father today,' Samar sighed again. There was a pause, and Aram furrowed his brow in concern as he eyed that weary expression on her face once again. Samar didn't tend to argue with either of her parents. In fact, as Aram thought back, he couldn't really ever recall it happening in the past. Samar's parents caught the ire of the town for the same reason his own did; they rejected many of the traditions and rules that everyone else lived and breathed by. They were firm believers in girls being allowed to learn, not being forced to marry at a young age, and in many other things like that. It was for that very reason, that though both families were frowned upon by the town, and though they at least partly differed in faith, they found a strong friendship with one another. It seemed unusual that Samar would argue with her father in particular; he was, after all, one of her biggest supporters. At her current age of 18, there were already whispers around the town, rumours speculating why she hadn't yet been married off, but Samar's father was adamant; he wasn't accepting offers for his daughter's hand simply due to it being common practice, nor for money. He wasn't at all interested in her living the rest of her life unhappy and as nothing more than a cook, cleaner, and producer of offspring for the family line of a man who couldn't care less about how she felt. Samar's father still wanted her to be safe, to be careful not to interact with unrelated men in public beyond manners and small talk –lest it result in particularly dire consequences- but other than that he wanted her to marry a man that she loved... And so in every decision he technically had to make for her, he –discreetly- insisted on her input first.  
'Do I dare ask what you argued about?' Aram cautiously began. There was a pause, and a bitter sigh he heard from the other side of the fence, as if she was determined in what she wanted, but nervous to say it out loud.

'I want to leave,' Samar finally murmured, almost inaudible. Aram's head whipped around, away from leaning against the boards, to staring through the small gap instead. 'Aram, I want to leave this place and go somewhere else... _Anywhere_ else, where I can be free to do what I want and not be told I can't just because I'm not a _man_.' A breath caught in Aram's throat as her words rang in his ears, and their meaning struck him like a punch to the gut. He wanted her to be happy, he really did. He saw frequently how much the restraints on women tore away at her inside, and he hated it. He missed the bubbly smile that could barely ever be wiped from her face when they were little, only to be replaced by a more weary one as they grew and began to understand the delicate nature of the society in which they lived. But, the few times he ever saw her warmest, most genuine smiles now were when they were talking, just the two of them... Secretly. And that was the dilemma; he wanted her to be happy and clearly, the things that made her happy weren't things she could do where they were... But at the same time, he didn't want to lose the girl who was easily his best –and _only_ , if he was being honest with himself- friend. He might have had the privileges of the male gender that she did not, but that didn't mean he wasn't ostracised too. Just by nature of being raised by his own outspoken parents, people sometimes avoided him as well.

And then of course, there was that perpetually bothersome fact that he loved her.

'Do your parents not want you to leave?' Aram tried not to sound even vaguely hopeful.  
'They don't _want_ me to go,' Samar reluctantly tried to explain, 'but they know I'm not happy here. They would miss me, but if I really wanted to leave I don't think they'd actively try to stop me.' She paused again for a moment, and Aram waited patiently for her to answer the question that still lingered in his brain; _then why the argument?_ 'But,' Samar slowly spoke up again, 'I _can't_ leave. They can't afford to send me away, which means if I want to go I have to earn the money myself... And who's going to give me a job? Nobody who owns a business here will hire me, they think I should be married, not working. So I'm stuck here.' The final words rang with particularly bitter voice, and came with Samar's shoulders slumping miserably against the fence hard enough that Aram could feel it shake against his own.  
'Not... Everyone,' he began warily. For a second Aram couldn't believe he was saying what he was about to say... But he had to. His happiness in having her stay there couldn't depend on her being where she was so miserable. Samar's brow furrowed in confusion, and she turned, glancing curiously through the hole in the fence.  
'What do you mean, not everyone?' She asked, almost suspiciously.  
'Not everyone who owns a business here thinks you should be married instead of working,' Aram murmured back. Samar offered him a small smile, but otherwise slumped back against the fence.  
'Your father won't hire me to work in your family's bookstore,' she sighed flatly.  
'No,' Aram hesitantly corrected her, 'but I would.' Samar's eyes went wide. 'You know he retires next week, and then the store is mine... I _was_ his assistant, but when I take over I'm going to need one of my own. You could do it, all you have to do is stick price tags on things, and put books on shelves.' Or rather, that was what Aram had done as his father's assistant; all the things his father couldn't quite get around to in the shop as he grew older and slower... Aram had no doubt that with his comparative youth, he could probably run the whole store on his own. He also had no doubt that with the success of the store in recent years, plus his wages from working for his father, he could probably afford simply to _give_ Samar the money... But she wouldn't want that. Even if they both feigned ignorance of the fact she really wouldn't be doing much other than sitting in the back room reading, she would still prefer at least to have the job title.  
'You hire me,' Samar quickly shook her head, her voice rising slightly with concern, 'and you could lose half your customers.'  
'Not necessarily.' Aram was grinning now, no longer cautious, but pleased that his initial plan was coming together even better than first thought, the longer he considered it. 'For most of what you'd have to do, you would be in the back room. Setting books on shelves or anything else that really needs you in the main area should be done early before the store opens or late after it closes. If you're worried, nobody has to even know you're there.' Aram paused again, studying through the hole in the fence, the way Samar's eyes were wandering as she processed the idea. 'And I guess the bonus is... You could read any book you like when you don't have anything else to do.'  
'Are you sure?' Samar breathed, staring through the hole at him in utter, amazed disbelief.  
'Mmhmm.'  
'You would have to ask my father first.'  
'I'll ask him tomorrow,' Aram murmured back. 'Do you think he'll say no?' In all honesty, Samar wasn't sure. In most part, she doubted her father would say no. The sound of her mother's voice calling out for her from inside the house, calling her back inside, rang in Samar's ears and stopped her from really answering Aram's question, but for a split second, she ignored it. All she wanted for the moment, was to be able to touch him... To grasp his hand or brush against his arm or _something_ that could convey how grateful and adoring she was right there in that moment, but despite the fact that the one plank in the fence between them was loose and she could probably reach through it if she desperately had to, Samar knew she shouldn't. They really weren't even supposed to be _talking_ in secret, without supervision, let alone holding hands. That would be the one level of rebellion against the rules that her parents might actually step in and stop, just to prevent some kind of scandal... So Samar settled for leaning her head and her hand back on the fence, against where she _imagined_ his were. She hated having to settle for that, but it was the best she could do.  
'I have to go,' she whispered to him, trying to hold his gaze as earnestly as she could through the tiny hole in the fence, 'but _thank you_.'  
'Go,' Aram murmured back, nodding. 'I'll see you tomorrow, perhaps.'

* * *

Next up; the origin story of the hole in the hence, in 'The Fence'.


	2. The Fence

_**1990**_

He saw her every morning when he left for school. He had to stop outside their front gate, just a few steps over from his own, so that her younger brother could walk with him. All their parents thought it was safer that way –for the seven year old to walk with his eleven year old friend rather than on his own- and so every morning Aram stopped. And he waited. Samar always walked out across the garden with Shahin; the two of them were close. Shahin missed her during the day and still didn't understand why she couldn't go with him to school, while Samar fussed over him adoringly and insisted at least on walking him to the gate while their parents watched on from the front door.

'Hi,' Aram murmured to her one morning. Samar's eyes snapped to his, wide in surprise. They hadn't spoken much to one another before. Tiny smiles were occasionally exchanged in friendly greeting over the fence, or polite small talk was made over the table when their combined parents had dinner together, but that was about it. Aram certainly hadn't greeted her at the gate beyond a nervous smile before, where neither of their parents could hear them. Now he bore the expression of simultaneous absolute terror, and pride, amazement, and disbelief in himself for having uttered that tiny word. Aram had been wanting to talk to her for so long, but he had been afraid to... But now, it had just slipped out. Samar however, couldn't help but smile as the surprise wore off –a far more genuine smile than the sheer polite, neighbourly ones they usually exchanged. She had that wild, rebellious streak, where she got a kick out of breaking the more minor rules where she could. And she liked that neighbour boy too; he seemed sweet, friendly, and not at all fussed about the fact that she was a _girl_ -which was far more than could be said for the other boys around town who walked down their street on the way to school and either turned their noses up or sneered down them at her if she was in the garden when they passed.  
'Hi,' Samar whispered back. Aram blinked for a second, and then a breath seemed to catch in his throat at the fact she actually _replied_. To _him_. His eyes went wide, and he gave her an awkward, lopsided grin for a second, before sheepishly bowing his head once more.  
'Come on, Shahin,' he prompted the smaller boy between them instead, 'we're going to be late for school.' Aram tugged gently on his arm, and Shahin followed without protest, pausing only to wave goodbye to Samar and their parents. Samar watched them walk away, as Aram struggled not to pause and glance back at her over his shoulder. She watched them go, a thrilled smile on her face where her parents behind her couldn't see, until Aram and Shahin disappeared into the distance down the street, and around the corner where she couldn't see them anymore.

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1998**_

'Mr. Navabi,' Aram cautiously began. He had arrived and knocked on the front door as early as he could, but without being too early of course. Aram was nervous; he wanted the conversation to go well. After all, his and Samar's entire plan for him to hire her so that she could earn enough money to leave, was hinged entirely on her father allowing it to go forward. Now Aram stood in Arash Navabi's home office, shifting awkwardly on his feet and trying to figure out the best way to explain the situation. 'Uh... I was wondering if I could ask you something about Samar?'  
'If you're after her hand in marriage, you really should have sent your father to speak to me instead,' the older man mused –all too matter of factly- from the paperwork on his desk, without even lifting his gaze to meet Aram's. Aram's eyes went wide in horror.  
'Excuse me?' He spluttered in response. Of course, Samar's parents knew how he felt about her, and so did Aram's own parents... Not that Aram knew they all knew, and not that Samar knew any of it at all, for that matter... But for the sake of allowing their children to figure these things –and what to do about it- out for themselves, they pretended not to know a thing –well, so long as Aram and Samar behaved appropriately for the most part, anyway.

With an amused smirk, the older man finally looked up, slowly removed his glasses, and then gazed at Aram's mortified expression.

He was joking. Of course he was.

Samar's dry, teasing sense of humour had to come from somewhere.

'I'm kidding, Aram,' Arash said softly. 'What did you want to ask me?'  
'Uh, well...' Aram tried to start all over again while trying to calm himself down all at the same time. 'Now that I'm taking over the bookstore, I have to hire a new assistant. I was wondering if I could hire Samar.'  
'That might raise a few eyebrows,' Arash observed, raising his own curious eyebrow as he spoke.  
'It might.'  
'But?'  
'Why do you assume there's a but?' Aram asked quickly, then paused. Then he kicked himself internally for asking the older man such an abrupt question. 'Sir?' He hurriedly tacked onto the end, in an attempt to make it sound more polite. Arash's lip quirked up with the tiniest hint of amusement. In truth, he had a certain degree of affection for the son of his neighbour and dear friend... A certain degree of respect too, in fact, for the young man who had such affection in turn for his daughter, and was her secret confidant while always treating her with the utmost respect. Arash knew all these things about Aram, but he wasn't about to show his approval too outwardly.  
'Isn't there always?' He mused.  
' _But_ , most of the time she would be working in a separate area of the store from me,' Aram quickly relented, 'and she would hardly be seen.' Arash resisted allowing the smile to widen proudly across his face; clearly, Aram and Samar had put some thought into the plan... But he had to press on with his questions; if ever the wrong person discovered Samar working for Aram, they too would thoroughly scrutinise Aram's decision to hire her... And for Samar's safety, Arash had to know that Aram's answers could hold up.  
'Why not hire another young man?' He asked.  
'Because Samar loves to read,' Aram replied quickly in turn.  
'Does she now?' Arash's curious, drawn out question lingered almost threateningly in the air between them. A breath caught in Aram's throat as he did a double take and wondered if that was something he was supposed to know or not.  
'Sometimes I see her reading in the front garden, sir,' Aram said slowly, reflecting back to anything he could think of besides his secret conversations with Samar, that could explain how we would know such a thing. 'And she was always reading in your living room when I tutored Shahin a few years ago.'  
'A logical assumption, then,' Arash murmured, nodding slowly.  
'Thank you...' In truth, Aram had no idea whether that was supposed to be a positive observation or not, but Arash didn't question him any further, so he decided to continue; 'I figure she's familiar with a lot of books, so she might be able to sort through all the books in the store faster than someone who is, uh, less familiar with them.'  
'Ok then,' Arash said simply, before turning back to the paperwork on his desk.  
'Ok?' Clearly, Arash was now satisfied with his answers, but it seemed far too easy all of a sudden for Aram's taste.  
'Ok, you may employ her, if she also agrees to work for you,' the older man murmured again. 'When would you like her to start?'  
'Next week if that's ok.' Aram shifted awkwardly on his feet once again. 'The store is mine as of Monday.'

Arash gave another short nod, committing the detail to memory... Then he lifted his head once again, gazing past Aram and through the half open doorway to his office.

'Samar?' He called out. Within seconds, she appeared in the doorway, eyes wide in feigned curiosity. Arash rose to his feet as she appeared, stepping forwards ever so slightly to stand beside Aram in the centre of the room. He was just as tall as Aram, but wider built and far more physically intimidating –even if, personality wise, he wasn't intimidating to the people who really knew him at all. His eyes crinkled slightly at the sight of his daughter standing there. They almost twinkled for her, in fact.  
'Yes, Father?' Samar replied, all too innocently. Arash couldn't help but let out a wry smile.  
'Do you agree?' He asked simply. Samar paused before responding, cautiously avoiding Aram's gaze as she held her father's instead.  
'Agree with what?' Her voice remained as innocent as she could muster... But Arash's wry smile only widened further.  
'Since when do you not listen behind walls when my conversations are about you, my dear?' He chuckled. Samar did a double take, taken by surprise for a moment.  
'I'm happy to work in Aram's-' she quickly answered, and avoided her father's question all at once –and then she suddenly stopped, and corrected herself '- _Mr Mojtabai's_ store.'  
'Then you start Monday,' Arash chirped, seemingly pleased with the situation all of a sudden. Or at least, so he seemed to Aram and Samar, who had no idea he had really been pleased all along.

Aram and Samar couldn't help but exchange delighted –albeit fleeting- grins, before both hurriedly returned their glances awkwardly to the floor, and Aram began to toy nervously with his watch.

'You need something else, Aram?' Arash drolly broke the silence, and made them both jump.  
'Uh, no,' Aram said quickly, 'no, sir.' He scurried across the remainder of the room, towards where Samar stood in the doorway. Clearly, it was time for him to leave. Arash followed him out of the room, each of them pausing only to offer Samar a short nod and polite smile on the way past, before Aram was led away, back to the front door.

/*/*/*/*

It took mere minutes for both Samar and Aram to find an excuse to slip out into their respective back gardens and hurry towards the hole in the fence. They each stood, facing the fence, foreheads bowed and leaning against the wooden planks, with a hand rested gently beside the gap. They were perfectly symmetrical, touching and leaning against one another if not for the fence that stood between them. For a moment they stood there in total silence, still processing everything that had just happened; their plan was _working_... Neither of them could really believe it just yet. And as much as Aram was now faced with the dilemma of helping her leave when all he wanted was for her to stay, for the moment he couldn't be happier. Samar was utterly ecstatic, and it showed even in the way she carried herself. Her head was held high, the weary tension was gone completely from her shoulders, and her eyes crinkled in delight. The happiness and sheer contentment was contagious. She had that wide, truly happy smile on her face that Aram hadn't seen very often at all in the last few months... And if nothing else served to make him happy too, _that_ certainly did.

'Your father scares me,' Aram finally broke the silence, grinning sheepishly.  
'He means well,' Samar chuckled softly back. 'He wouldn't have given you the time of day if he didn't like you.'

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1990**_

The grins were wide on both Samar and Shahin's faces as they kicked the soccer ball back and forth in their back garden that morning. Or rather, Shahin mostly kicked it back and forth. Samar didn't have the same level of proficiency with the ball that he did, and mostly gave chase while Shahin cackled gleefully. After all, Shahin spent far more hours practising with it than Samar was able to... But Samar certainly tried to hold her own. Against someone else with the same amount of practice that she had, Samar definitely would have been the stronger player; she had the same natural talent that Shahin did, just less opportunity to harness it.

The two of them would kick the ball back and forth and chase it around the garden for hours if they could; it was one of the rare places where they had the privacy and safety simply to enjoy being children without being concerned about the worries and judgement of the world around them.

Shahin dribbled the ball with his toes around the fruit trees, then the raised vegetable garden beds, then the flower pots. Samar chased eagerly, making up the distance with ease given the strides of her greater height and longer legs, but still her footwork didn't match Shahin's. The ball passed rapidly from foot to foot, three times between Shahin's feet for every one time Samar managed to catch it between her own. Shahin let out a loud, teasing laugh as he ducked around her, making the final dash for the garden tools lined up against the fence that they had designated as a makeshift goal net.

He lined himself up as Samar gave chase once again, ready to kick the ball towards the fence. He glanced over his shoulder to see how far away she was, and nearly jumped –she was closer than he thought, and she was gaining ground rapidly. Shahin turned forwards again, quickening in pace... And then he stumbled.

Shahin stumbled over the ball, over his own feet, and in the process the ball launched forwards with even more force than he could have even _tried_ to kick it with. Shahin landed flat on his face in the dirt but quickly pushed himself up again as fast as he could. Samar came to a sudden stop just behind him, grabbing his arm and practically skidding in the dirt as she stared in horror at the ball flying too hard, too fast towards the fence. A split second felt like an eternity as they watched the ball, completely unable to stop it.

And then there was impact.

The ball struck the heavy spade they were using as one of the goalposts, one of its sharp corners puncturing the ball immediately on impact and leaving its now rapidly deflating form to fall dejectedly to the ground.

But the spade wasn't done.

The impact pushed it into the fence it leaned upon, shaking the whole wall of rough wooden planks and making a loud thud noise that echoed in both their ears.

On the other side of the fence, minding his own business and trying to drown out the happy noises of his two neighbours playing so gleefully together, Aram sat by himself reading the latest book swiped from his father's store... Until the loud thud and the subsequent sudden silence as both Samar and Shahin fell quiet in horror, made Aram look up, setting his book down beside him and staring at the fence in curiosity.

There was a hole in the edge of one of the planks, and the plank itself was now loose on its nails. The spade had been leaning up against the edge of it, almost sliding into the narrow gap between that plank and the next one. On impact it had been pushed into the gap, taking a chunk out of the edge, and then wedging itself further into the gap, until the spade too, fell to the ground.

On Samar and Shahin's side of the fence, they both stood stunned looking at the damage. Samar instinctively grasped Shahin's hand as their parents sprinted outside, alarmed by the noise, and brushed past them. Her father stood by the fence, contemplating the damage for a while, before grumbling something to his wife that Samar and Shahin couldn't quite hear, then gesturing in frustration for them both to go back inside. They did so, far too nervous to protest, and then sat anxiously in the living room, waiting...

They knew it wasn't their fault, not really. They used the spade and the other tools as goalposts frequently, and without issue. On this occasion Shahin had simply slipped and accidentally hit the ball harder than usual as his feet fought for traction against the ground.

They waited for what felt like an eternity for their parents to return inside and yell, but they never did. Perhaps they somehow understood what had happened, Samar didn't know. All she and Shahin heard was a brief hammering noise, which when she glanced cautiously out the window she noted to be her father attempting to hammer the plank back in place, all the while her mother watched on.

After a while both came back inside, and tried to act reasonable. There was a quiet lunch, and then both kids were sent off to play once more, while their mother tidied up and their father returned to his office, gritting his teeth. Shahin retreated to his room, to play with his model trucks instead, but Samar ventured curiously outside once more.

She stared at the fence. The plank wasn't quite hanging as loose as it had been, but it certainly wasn't as strong as it once was either. Her fingertips traced the edge of the small hole in the edge that was only about as big as her tiny, ten year old fist, studying the shape that the corner of the spade had made.

A familiar face appeared on the opposite side of the fence, one that she could now see there, given the hole in the plank. It was Aram, apparently having returned to observe the damage himself, too. Samar studied him curiously in turn, eyeing his wide, friendly eyes, and his wild mess of dark hair that stuck out in what seemed like eleven different directions. She smiled softly, remembering his nervous greeting of her at the gate the morning before.

'Hi,' she suddenly greeted him again. It felt wrong not to, when they were both standing there, staring at a hole in a piece of wood from opposite sides. Aram jumped as she spoke, staring back at her through the gap like a deer caught in headlights.  
'Hi,' he cautiously mumbled back, once his brain remembered words again. Samar's smile only widened more so, and she tilted her head slightly, studying the fear on his face almost quizzically this time.  
'I'm Samar,' she announced, completely confident and matter of fact about it. She didn't seem to have that fear of speaking to him, nor his awkwardness. If anything, she seemed vaguely excited.  
'I know.' Aram hurriedly nodded as he spoke; they _had_ been introduced at those family dinners. 'I mean, uh, I remember.'  
'You're Aram,' Samar announced again. On the other side of the fence, Aram furrowed his brow in confusion.  
'I know that too,' he said quickly, wondering why on earth she would tell him such a thing, or if then, there was something he was missing. 'I think.' Samar however, didn't miss a beat. She was far too curious.  
'So...' She began again, searching for something to talk about. 'What do you have in your garden?' Aram simply blinked. It seemed she wanted to have a whole conversation through that hole in the fence between them.  
'You mean... Like flowers and stuff?' He asked shyly.  
'Mmhmm.'  
'I don't know much about flowers.'  
'I do,' Samar chirped. 'Describe them.'  
'Well...' Aram paused again, glancing around his mother's garden, and hoping more than _anything_ that he wasn't about to sound incredibly stupid. 'There's a bunch of little white ones that sort of climb up the fence on the other side.'  
'That's jasmine,' Samar said, grinning and nodding happily as she listened. Aram watched her face through the gap; she didn't look judgemental at _all_. All of a sudden, Aram didn't feel nervous anymore.  
'Do you like jasmine?' He asked softly.  
'Yeah.' Samar grinned at him through the fence. For that moment, it occurred to neither of them that they really shouldn't have been talking to each other at all, let alone unsupervised through the hole in the fence. 'It smells nice, but I don't have any in my garden.' Aram broke into a wide smile, and he quickly darted away from the fence, across his own garden towards the vines of jasmine, and plucked a few of the soft branches from it. Within another second, he was back at the gap in the fence. The smell of the fresh jasmine in his hands filled his nostrils, and he grinned in delight.  
'It _does_ smell nice,' he observed, nodding in amazement. 'Here,' he added, holding the messy bunch up to the gap. His hand was _just_ small enough to push the flowers through. 'For you.' Samar let out a soft gasp as the flowers poked through the gap. They were slightly battered now, having been crumpled in Aram's hand and then shoved through the hole in the fence, but she really didn't care. Samar loved the smell of jasmine, and she took it gladly. She buried her nose in it, inhaling the strong aroma from those tiny white flowers.  
'Thank you,' she breathed, almost too quietly for Aram to catch it. He certainly couldn't miss the smile that went with it though, and he smiled back. They both stood there like that, completely silent and smiling at each other in a fashion that was both completely awkward and yet, completely comfortable with one another all at once.

'So...' Aram began again, his eyes crinkling slightly. 'What's in _your_ garden?'

* * *

Next up; 'The Sharing'.


	3. The Sharing

_**1998**_

'I thought we shared these,' Aram murmured suddenly, as he caught sight of the two pieces of baklava in the box that sat on the short, wooden table in the back room of his bookstore. It was Samar's first day working there, and Shahin had just walked her to the door on his way to school. Samar had marched into the backroom to greet him with a completely content smile on her face, before setting the box on the table and turning to the pile of books just behind it that awaited her. Aram couldn't help but be taken by surprise when he happened to casually glance at the contents of the box. It seemed to have become tradition over the years that between the two of them, they shared a single piece of whatever she had baked... But right there, in the box, there were _two_ separate pieces of the sweet, nut-filled pastry that he loved so much.

'It was always more difficult to fit a whole piece through the fence,' Samar said softly, glancing back at him in surprise. Her expression softened slightly, as she took in the way Aram's brow furrowed in contemplation. 'But I guess we could share one now before opening, and share the other one later after closing...' Aram looked up in a flash, his eyes crinkling as he met her gaze rather than staring at the box. He was being silly, he knew that. There was no reason they couldn't just each enjoy a whole piece of baklava.

Except for the fact that they had never really done that before... And it just felt odd to change that now.

Perhaps it was simple nostalgia for their youth, Aram wasn't sure.

Either way though, Samar seemed to understand exactly what was going through his mind, without him having really said much at all.

'I'll make some tea,' Aram said quickly, unable to hide the grin suddenly etching its way across his face. Samar shook her head with a hint of amusement as Aram ducked back out of the room and she heard the kettle begin to boil.

She remembered the day they first shared a rice flour cookie through the fence, all too well...

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1992**_

'Aram,' Samar's mother spoke softly from the kitchen, 'would you like some nan-e berenji?' Aram glanced up curiously from the table where he sat with Shahin, unsure really whether to accept or not. It was the first time he had ever been into their house without his parents to guide him in what to do or what to say, and that was only because Samar and Shahin's father Arash, had asked if he would tutor Shahin once a week and help him with his homework. Aram of course, was more than happy to lend a hand... But once he entered the house, saw Samar curled up in the corner of the room with her book trying –and _failing_ \- not to appear as though she too, was listening in on the lesson, and he had smelled the intense aroma of fresh baking that swirled through the air from the kitchen and practically filled every inch of remaining space in the house –including up his nostrils- Aram found it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand.

The fresh rice flour cookies that Samar had finished baking just before his arrival looked so good, and Aram wanted one _so_ badly... But he didn't know what to say.

Thankfully, he didn't have to say anything. The look of longing on his face must have been enough, for Nasrin let out a soft smile and knew exactly what the silence meant. She pulled two plates from the cupboard and set a cookie on each one, before placing one in front of him on the table, and the other in front of Shahin.

Shahin of course, wasted no time in practically inhaling his own. _He_ knew how good his sister's cooking was.

In the corner of the room, watching them over her book, Samar grinned happily at the sight of Aram taking his first tiny bite of the cookie, and his eyes going wide in delight before inhaling the rest of it himself.

She listened intently as Aram went on to go over Shahin's homework in detail, pointing out examples in his textbooks and then writing out his own on loose sheets of paper. She was eager for every piece of knowledge she could get, especially everything that could help her understand the few things in the textbooks that she too, struggled to grasp. She was careful to remember to occasionally turn the pages in her book however, as Aram scribbled notes in the corners of Shahin's. They all knew what she was doing –and they didn't mind either, for that matter- but Samar was painfully aware of the fact that she wasn't allowed to go to school like Shahin was, no matter what her parents thought or spoke out to the contrary... And she was determined to try and be as discreet as her parents always were, anytime she saw them breaking the rules. Not to mention, she wasn't supposed to be anywhere near as familiar and comfortable with Aram as she actually was.

From the table, Aram snuck cautious glances away from Shahin's frustration at his math problems, and over to where Samar sat across the room with her book. He watched as occasionally, her attempts to act as though she was reading, ended up with the words on the pages she was turning accidentally catching her eye and drawing her attention away from listening until she suddenly caught herself, and gave a tiny, frustrated shake of her head. It was almost as if, no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't _quite_ stop herself from reading her favourite books.

The tiniest ghost of a smile crossed Aram's face as he noticed that quick, frustrated shake of her head once again; he remembered that she had told him through the fence, perhaps a week and a half earlier or so, how she loved to read, but it was only now that he kept catching her eyes fall to the pages that he could really appreciate just how true that was.

/*/*/*/*

'What are you doing?' Samar's curious voice came quietly through the hole in the fence a few hours later, well after Shahin's tutoring had finished and Aram had returned home next door. On the other side, Aram stood there, seemingly studying the lower end of the loose plank with his brow furrowed in determination. He looked up as soon as Samar's voice reached his ears, the expression on his face changing instantly to a soft smile as he caught a glimpse of her dark curls and half her face through that tiny hole in the panel.  
'You're here,' he murmured, almost relieved for a second... And then he glanced down shyly for a moment, shifting awkwardly back and forth on his feet. 'Uh, I wasn't sure if you would come, you seemed to be enjoying that book...' He trailed off.

'You left some really detailed notes in Shahin's textbook,' Samar observed, noting that he still hadn't answered her original question.  
'I wondered if you would see them...'  
'You even left notes for some of the things he doesn't have any problems with.' For a second she held his gaze, allowing a knowing smile to cross her face before Aram's cheeks flushed slightly pink and he stared back down at his feet. Of course she saw the notes he had left for her in his scrawling handwriting, and of course she realised they were for her, rather than for Shahin. As Aram had watched her listening in to the lesson out of the corner of his eyes, he had noticed when her brow furrowed at a small handful of concepts, still thinking them over by the time Shahin was ready to move on to the next. And so, he had written notes in the margins of the book for those concepts, just as he had for the things Shahin had struggled with, so that when Samar inevitably took the book after Shahin was done with it -to learn from it herself- she would see the explanations and could understand too.

But of course, she also wasn't going to embarrass him further by making a fuss and outwardly saying she knew the notes were for her, when he had been trying so hard to be discreet too.

The knowing, grateful smile was enough for that.

'I wanted to leave this for you,' Aram quickly changed the subject back to the original question as he looked up again. He held up his hand for her to see through the fence, a book with a faded blue cover. 'I saw the books on your shelf, so I thought you might like to read this one too... But I wasn't sure where to leave it...' Aram grimaced in annoyance at his dilemma, but Samar's eyes stayed focused in amazed disbelief on the book in his hand. Tucked just inside that faded cover, and poking out the top, were sprigs of leaves with little white flowers.

Jasmine. So that if she saw the book, Samar would know it was for her.

'Would it fit through the gap in the planks if you push the loose one slightly?' She suggested quietly. She almost couldn't believe that he had even thought of her taste in books enough to share one with her, but she definitely couldn't believe how annoyed he seemed at the possibility that he might not be able to. Aram tilted his head, shrugging his shoulder in defeat.  
'That's what I was trying to figure out.' He nodded quickly. 'But I don't think it quite fits,' he paused, glaring at the wobbly, lower end of the plank, and _willing_ it to be able to stretch just that tiny bit further so that he could slip the book through, but it was no use. Aram let out a dejected sigh, then finally glanced back at her, tilting his head curiously. 'Do you want me to read it to you instead?' Samar simply beamed.  
'Sure,' she said, bobbing her head in total enthusiasm for the idea. And then she too, paused, and stared curiously down at the plate in her own hand –the plate that bore another of those rice flour cookies that she had planned to eat while sitting out in the garden. 'Wait, hang on,' she added quickly. In a flash, she snapped the cookie in two, and held one half up to the hole in the fence between them.

Two years on, the hole that had been _just_ big enough for Aram's eleven year old hand back then, was now _just_ too small to reach through... But it was still big enough for half a cookie.

Plus, it was always nice to share.

'Oh...' Aram tried to shake his head no. 'But I've already had one today and you haven't yet...' He said softly, though still eyeing it with a hint of longing.  
'I have a whole _batch_ of them in the kitchen,' Samar chirped matter of factly in response. With a shy grin, Aram conceded, and he reached towards the fence to take the other half of the cookie.  
'Ok then.' Aram sat down in the grass, crossing his legs and leaning sideways against the fence, just as Samar did exactly the same on her side. He opened up the book to the first page, taking care not to let those sprigs of jasmine fall out. He was still determined, some way or another he was going to get that book to her but for the moment, as he nibbled on the edge of his half of the cookie, he began to read.

On Samar's side of the fence, she closed her eyes and leaned the side of her head against that loose, wooden plank. She allowed each bite of the cookie to slowly melt in her mouth, savouring it, as Aram's gentle voice filled her ears with the story she had never heard before.

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1998**_

'Hey,' Aram's voice broke Samar's concentration sorting the last few books onto their shelves, now that the store was closed for the day. She glanced over her shoulder back at him, raising a quizzical eyebrow. Aram lifted a book up off the counter –the very book Samar had been eyeing off all day- with a knowing grin quickly crossing his face. 'You should try this one,' he suggested, 'I think you'd enjoy it.' Samar set the last of her pile of books on the shelf in front of her, then darted across the store towards the counter. Aram handed the book to her, smirking in gentle teasing; they had such an acute sense of each other's tastes now. 'There's no jasmine in the store though, unfortunately,' he added softly. Samar gave him a good-natured eyeroll; jasmine sprigs in book covers had over time, become as much of a tradition as sharing her baking, or even the books themselves. Eventually, in that time, Aram had found more and more creative ways to leave his books for her to borrow –with it even becoming a game after a while, for Samar to figure out where he would leave the next one, whether it be through the shorter front fence hidden behind the rosebushes, slipped in the mailbox before her parents checked it, or even odd places around the house while he was there tutoring Shahin. But no matter where Aram left a book, or where Samar found it, there was always jasmine in the cover, just for her.  
'At least I have a better excuse for where I got this one, now,' she murmured, turning the book over in her hands and reading the words on the cover. Unlike the idea of no longer sharing her baking, this felt like a much nicer change from having to hide each book Aram lent her, in her room somewhere, and read it under the bed covers so that her parents would never know of their secret communication. She glanced up from the cover, letting out a wry smile as she met Aram's gaze once more; 'but I think you still owe me the jasmine, or how ever will I keep track of what page I'm up to?' Aram simply chuckled as he responded;  
'Deal.'

* * *

Next up; 'The Wondering', and just a reminder that's the one that includes the violence.


	4. The Wondering

_**A/N**_ as previously mentioned, this one comes with a warning for violence. It's mostly a fistfight and some unpleasant name calling, that ends up in one character having a black eye after a strike to the face. That's pretty much the total extent of it, but if that's still not for you, you're welcome to skip it. That scene is between the first /*/*/*/* and just before the second one. The rest of the chapter is safe. If anyone wants to skip the whole thing and would like a summary of everything else that happens instead, please feel free to just ask :)

* * *

 _ **1998**_

Samar's foot tapped anxiously against the worn carpet without her even realising it as she stood in the doorway to the bookstore, staring out into the dusky evening sky, and waiting... Waiting for Shahin to come and walk her home as he was supposed to, now that she worked at Aram's store. It had been long enough, nearly a month now in fact, and though there had been a couple of occasions where Shahin had forgotten the sudden, new change in routine on his way home from school and had to double back past the store to collect her –or the one time he had been delayed after getting distracted playing soccer after school with his friends- he had always turned up eventually. Sure, those times he was late, but he _had_ been there.

Tonight, on the other hand, was later than he had ever been before, and Samar was growing nervous.

And nervous not only because he was supposed to be walking her home, but nervous because their parents were away for a couple of days visiting their own parents, and Samar was supposed to be looking after Shahin just as Shahin was supposed to be looking after her.

'I'm not letting you walk home by yourself,' Aram's soft voice broke through her mind's anxious wanderings. 'It's getting dark, and I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea about you walking along by yourself at night, it's not safe.' Samar's lip quirked up ever so slightly in response, but Aram's words didn't really register in her brain.  
'Where do you think he is?' She quietly asked instead. Samar continued staring out the door, watching for any figure on the approach who even in the shadows, might vaguely resemble her brother... But there was no-one.  
'I'm not sure,' Aram murmured softly back, coming to stop by her side. 'I hate to say it, but he's _fifteen_ , Samar. Guaranteed, he's a very tall, wide built fifteen year old who already looks scarier than I do so I doubt anyone's hurt him, if that's what you're worried about,' he paused for a moment, hoping that might reassure her, 'but he's _still_ a teenager.'  
' _We're_ teenagers,' Samar muttered back, though the hint of drollness in her voice gave Aram _some_ confidence in that he was managing to ease her nerves.  
'Yeah, but the difference is,' Aram observed, tilting his head slightly, 'you're eighteen, and I'm nineteen. We're adults, _technically_ , whereas Shahin's still in school. Maybe he just got caught up playing soccer with his friends again, and he's at one of their houses like he used to do after school before you started working here, because he still hasn't adjusted to the new routine yet. Maybe's he's enjoying the freedom of not having your parents around for a couple of days, like a _normal_ teenager.' Samar's eyes snapped to his, and she let out a wry smile.  
'Are you suggesting that you and I are not normal?' She laughed. Aram gave a nonchalant shrug.  
'Why would I want to be normal?' He asked, grinning. Though, as he thought about it, there was some truth in that. Normal young people their age, in their town, wouldn't be such close friends –or friends at all, for that matter. It simply wasn't allowed. In fact, it was illegal -or at least, the scandalous romance it would be mistaken for, given the strange nature of their friendship, was illegal. The only reason they got away with it was because they were discreet, and because their parents feigned ignorance –not that Samar and Aram knew that second part. As far as they knew, their collective parents didn't know a thing.

'But back on topic,' Aram spoke softly again, 'you can't walk home by yourself.'  
'I can't walk home with you either,' Samar countered, albeit gently. 'What if someone sees us and gets the wrong idea?' Aram bit his lip; that thought had occurred to him too. In short, they were stuck between a rock and a hard place, weighing up which was riskier.  
'It's not far,' he tried to reason aloud with himself, more than her. 'Maybe nobody will see us. I'd rather risk that than you walking alone, and getting hurt. At the very least, I could walk a few steps behind you so we don't _look_ like we're walking together, but I can still see you and make sure you're safe.' Samar gave a small sigh of exasperated defeat, that Aram took to mean she agreed with the plan, and then reached for her bag.

'You don't think I could handle things, myself?' She asked drolly, swinging the worn, canvas bag strap over her shoulder. Aram paused before responding, eyeing her slim frame up and down, and not sure whether to take the question as serious or joking. In truth, he was cautious; Samar was tall, but her frame was narrow. She was far lighter than _him_ , and even Aram knew he was on the gangly, skinnier side, without wondering how Samar would compare to a more intimidating, heavier-set man. She also had no strategic fight or weapons training on her side to counter that difference in size either. What she did have, and what Aram also knew, was stubbornness and fire. She was never the kind of person who wouldn't at least _try_ to fight back.  
'I don't think you'd give up without a fight, that's for sure,' Aram muttered, reaching around her slightly to switch off the one store light that remained on. He held the door open for her, allowing Samar to step through out onto the street before he stepped out behind her, pausing only to turn and lock the door behind them both.  
'Nice save,' Samar mused, giving him a wry smile that earned her an eyeroll of mock exasperation in response. 'Ok, come on. I need to figure out where Shahin has gone.'

/*/*/*/*

'Hey!' A furious voice came from somewhere to their left as Samar and Aram made the final turn onto their street. An unfamiliar, middle-aged man who was easily twice Aram's size, came practically charging towards them, his eyes fixated intently, and terrifyingly on Samar. A breath caught in her throat and she froze for a moment, then slowly stepped backwards, edging ever so slightly further down their street and away from the angry man as he came ever closer. 'What do you think you're doing out here, you tramp?' The man's voice echoed in their ears again. Aram scuttled forwards, quickly closing that few steps gap between them and then instinctively trying to take one step further in front of her. One hand quickly came to rest against her arm, as if to gently steer Samar away and signal that they should make a run for the rest of their street towards their respective houses.

But Samar didn't budge.

She ducked as the man charged straight into them, pushing Aram aside and then taking a swing at her. Aram tried to push back but barely succeeded, the man being too fuelled by adrenaline and whatever inner rage had him so intent on targeting Samar and ignoring him.  
'You filthy tramp,' the man screamed in Samar's face again, as he tightly clutched her arm. Samar could practically feel her blood boiling inside; she had no idea who this man was, nor why she was suddenly the target of his rage, but his warm, vile breath in her face made her recoil, and she wrenched his arm from his grasp. 'I knew you were trouble, even before I married you,' the man spat at her, 'what do you think your father's going to say when I tell him you've been wandering off with some other man?' Samar and Aram immediately swapped cautious glances, knowing exactly what was happening; the angry man was clearly mistaking her for the wife that he cared so little for, he could barely recognise her. Unfortunately, and as they both knew as they swapped those glances, if the man was so determined that Samar was his missing, young wife, there was little to nothing they could say to convince him to the contrary... Though that didn't mean Aram wasn't going to try.  
'Hey, don't talk to her like that,' he tried to protest, 'she's not your wife.' The man's gaze faltered from Samar just long enough to shoot Aram a particularly filthy glare.  
'Oh, so you're the man she's running off with, are you?' The man spat again, 'you're the one who doesn't know better than to steal another man's wife rather than respect what isn't your property?'  
'She's not your wife,' Aram's voice rose in volume, 'and she's certainly not your _property_. Leave her alone.'  
'Come with me,' the man ordered, shifting his attention back to Samar and tightly taking her by the elbow once again.  
'Hey-' Samar argued, digging her feet into the ground so that he couldn't pull her along, and trying to wrench back her arm... But the man cut her off.  
'-Quiet, _woman_ ,' he snarled, tugging at her arm... But Samar fought back. With her free hand, she tried to swing forwards, striking the man's jaw. She gasped in pain at the impact on her knuckles, but didn't stop. The man reached out, clamping down on her free flying arm and holding both, but that only prompted Samar to start kicking instead. She kicked his shins, kneed his belly, anything she could think of and reach for to inflict damage that might make him let go of her. Aram joined in within a split second. Grasping the man's hands and desperately trying to pull him off Samar.  
'Leave...' Aram growled between kicks and pulls of his own. 'Her... _Alone._ '  
'Fine,' the man hissed, letting go of both of them and shooting Samar what was easily the filthiest glare she had ever seen, 'see if he can look after you as well as I could, you little piece of filth. Just wait and see how long it takes before your father starts looking for you.' A breath caught in both their throats as the man, just for a second, appeared to turn away... And then he stopped. He turned back, his hand open but swinging back with such speed and momentum from the quick turn that they couldn't react quick enough to duck. Aram's eyes went wide and he tried desperately to push his way in front of Samar but he wasn't quite fast enough. The older man's hand collided with side of Samar's face, striking across her cheek just as his knuckles curled into her eye. Samar let out another gasp –far louder than the last- at the pain, and her knees crumpled where she stood, the force having nearly knocked her over entirely. Aram turned, his automatic instinct to grab Samar before she fell and hold her up, rather than to chase down the man who had already turned on his feels muttering on about 'filthy tramps' and striking him back.

Tears welled up in Samar's eyes at the pain and quickly rolled one after the next down her cheek. The redness around her cheek and eye from the impact was already darkening to a light purple, and Samar blinked far too fast, trying to unblur her vision. She tried to disentangle herself from Aram's arms, but stumbled... And so he held on.

'Hey,' he murmured softly, 'I got you.' He wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding Samar close for a moment; 'it's ok, I got you. Come on, I need to take you home.'

Slowly but surely, Aram guided her down the street, holding her up all the while. His eyes took constant, furtive glances sideways at her walking beside him; he was desperate to be able to comfort her, to be able to tend to her puffy eye right there on the spot rather than hurry her along, but he couldn't... Not right there, in the middle of the street, where anyone who heard the noise of the fight could look out their front windows and see them together –exactly as they shouldn't have been in the first place. So instead, he guided her along.

No answer came to the frenzied knocks on Samar's front door, and Aram paused again, cringing at the dilemma. He stared at Samar beside him; she was determined not to look too unsettled, amazingly enough, but the swelling around her eye was increasing, the trails of tears still glistened down her cheeks under the moonlight, and she was furiously biting her lip and gritting her teeth in the attempt to stop herself from thinking about the pain. Her eyes were also slightly glazed and wandering, and Aram's brow furrowed in determination for what he had to do next.

'Come on,' he murmured again. 'I'm not leaving you on your own.' Aram took her hand again, gently leading Samar around the rose-covered front fence, through the gate, and back to his own place next door.

'Aram?' His mother Mehri's voice called out from inside the living room, at the sound of the front door opening, 'you're home late.' Aram didn't respond as he cautiously made his way down the entry hall into his parents' home, with Samar right behind him... Their faces changed instantly from curiosity to wariness the second Aram and Samar appeared in front of them.  
'Before you freak out,' Aram hurriedly began, 'I can explain-' both his parents simply blinked at the sight of Samar's puffy eye, stunned for a second at the turn of events '-Shahin didn't come to the store and then a crazy guy tried to drag Samar away and then Shahin didn't answer the door at Samar's place and I'm not leaving her on her own like this-'  
'-Aram,' Mehri softly interjected, cutting off her son's terrified, breathless rambling.  
'-No,' Aram anxiously shook his head, 'Mother, I think she might have a concussion, I _can't_ leave her on her own next door.' Aram's parents exchanged wary glances; having Samar stay there overnight with them was risky but they too, could see clearly that Samar was barely holding herself together, and they certainly weren't going to leave the daughter of their neighbours and dear friends, in a situation like that... They just had to handle it carefully.  
'Ok,' Aram's father nodded slowly, and Aram took a deep breath of relief, 'but she stays in the spare room at the opposite end of the house, and you leave your mother to tend to her, ok?' Aram gave a reluctant nod in response, as Mehri took Samar gently by the arm and guided her to sit down in one of the arm chairs.  
'She needs ice,' he hurriedly added, remembering the first aid facts Samar had once rattled off to him oh so matter of factly years earlier, 'and you have to do that thing where you see if her eyes can follow your finger-'  
'-I know,' his mother said softly, offering him a small smile as she raised one hand in a gentle, calming gesture. 'Go make up the spare bedroom, and I'll look after Samar.'

/*/*/*/*

When Aram returned to the living room a little while later, he was surprised to see Samar still there in the armchair, quiet as she held a bag of frozen vegetables wrapped in a tea towel to her eye.

His mother was nowhere to be seen.

'How are you feeling?' Aram asked, his soft voice floating across the room from the doorway to where Samar sat. She glanced up from where she had been staring miserably at the carpet, and offered him a tiny smile.  
'Tired,' she murmured back, 'but I think I'll be ok.' Aram quickly panned his gaze around the room, checking to make sure that for that moment, his parents weren't watching, before darting across the room to crouch down in front of the low arm chair, and brush the loose strands of Samar's curly hair off her face and off the ice pack.  
'I'm sorry,' he whispered, as his fingertips brushed softly over hers where they held the tea towel to her eye. A breath caught in Samar's throat as they did so; she was far more than just tired. She was tired, she was miserable, she was shaken, and she was angry; despite her love of discreetly rebelling against the rules she so hated, this was the first time that reality had come back to bite her quite so hard. But more than any of that, she was more grateful than Aram could possibly imagine.  
'It's not your fault,' she insisted –albeit quietly- and shook her head as well as she could without aggravating the pain in the right hand side of her face any more so, 'and it might have been worse if you hadn't insisted on walking with me... Thank you.'  
'Don't mention it,' Aram replied even more quietly, his voice barely audible. His eyes studied her miserable expression and the slumping of her shoulders.. They studied the way her dark hair kept tumbling forwards, framing the soft features of her face... They studied the one, wide, golden brown eye that wasn't covered by the tea towel, and the fingertips curled softly around the other. He too was shaken, by the fact that she was hurt, and even more so by the idea of just how much worse it could have been. Without even thinking about it, Aram's fingertips brushed softly against hers once more... And they rested there, as he stared up at her face. Samar studied his expression in equal quiet; she could see the fear on his face that easily rivalled her own, and she could see the caring warmth in his eyes that made her wonder if just saying thank you was enough.

It certainly didn't feel like enough.

But she didn't know what else to say.

'Your mother's just finding me some other clothes to sleep in...' Samar trailed off, breaking the silence but unsure what else to do. She stared back at him, a strange, almost longing feeling churning in her gut the longer his fingers sat there, softly intertwined with hers.  
'Good...' Aram bobbed his head contemplatively as if his mind wasn't really in the conversation. His spare hand took hers, helping her rise slowly from the arm chair until she stood in front of him... Barely inches from him. 'You need to get some sleep.' Samar could feel her heart thumping in her chest, and she was acutely aware of each and every breath they both took in the tiny space between them. Almost as if she wasn't even controlling it, her spare hand came up again from where it had fallen back to her side a moment earlier, and it came to rest gently against his cheek. Each and every one of the tiny, coarse hairs of his stubble, prickled softly against her palm and made a tiny smile tug at the corners of her lips.  
'So do you...' She breathed, suddenly wondering if reaching ever closer to him was what she should be doing... And yet somehow, it felt like _exactly_ what she was supposed to be doing. Aram's eyes fell closed as the warmth of her soft lips came to rest against his cheek –just for a split second- and she kissed him there. Reluctantly she pulled away again, but only just. She lingered for one moment longer, her eyes crinkled adoringly. For a moment, Samar wondered what it meant that she had just done what she did... But then, she forced herself to step back.

...His parents could come back into the room at any moment... And they weren't supposed to be left alone together.

She offered him one more tiny smile, before bowing her head and walking away, heading for the spare room.  
'Goodnight, Aram.'

Aram watched her go, his mouth gaping ever so slightly open and his eyes still wide in surprise at the gesture. His cheeks flushed pink, the feeling of her kiss still lingering against his skin. Aram watched her disappear around that corner, wondering what on earth it all meant... Wondering, if it meant that she felt the same way about him that he did about her...

It was a question he had been wondering for a long time.

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1995**_

'What's wrong?' Came Samar's voice through the hole in the fence. 'You pretty much sprinted past the front gate today.' Indeed, Aram had. There was something on his mind that had bothered him from the second he had heard it, and distracted him for the rest of the day... And he didn't even want to stop at the front gate for the usual pretences of formal greeting in passing before reaching the back fence for their real conversations.  
'One of the boys at school,' Aram began hurriedly, 'was complaining about having to go to his little sister's wedding. The family has just arranged it in the last couple of weeks.' He paused, taking a deep breath and staring fearfully back through the hole in the fence at as much of Samar as he could see in that tiny frame. 'She's fifteen, Samar,' he added, the anxiety painfully clear in his voice, 'like you.'

A breath caught in Samar's throat at his words. It was a fear that hit home like a punch to the gut, and only felt all the more real upon hearing the reality of it happening to someone that one of them knew –albeit distantly. Samar took a deep breath, reminding herself that her parents were not the same as many others, that they would never do such a thing to her... But Aram still looked terrified, and Samar knew exactly why. The similarity in age had shaken him, and made him instantly worried that the same thing would happen to her and that as a result, he would lose her before he could even blink. After all, all contact would be essentially cut off or reduced to the formal, public interactions of larger events on the rare occasions that they were invited to the same ones, if Samar was ever to have to marry someone else and move away.

'I'm not going anywhere,' she whispered through the fence, trying to reassure him as well as herself. 'My father won't let me marry anyone I don't love.' Aram bit his lip, and Samar could see the way her words made his brow furrow in deep contemplation as he thought it over.  
'But how are you supposed to fall in love with someone before marrying them, if even just rumours of adultery here are enough to get you killed?' The question was painful enough a dilemma without Aram's cautious, shaky voice taking it from her mind's wanderings and asking it out loud. He stared back at her, his gaze screaming yet another question that Samar couldn't quite identify.  
'I don't know,' she said miserably... And then gritted her teeth in determination; 'but I'm sure I'll find a way.'

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1998**_

Aram did a double take in horror as he wandered down the back hallway of the house, past the door to the spare room where Samar had slept the night before.

The door was ever so slightly ajar, as if she had tried to close it, and then it had creaked open again.

...And inside the room, she was changing.

Or at least, Aram thought she was changing. He wasn't actually looking. There was a narrow flash of skin he spotted out of the corner of his eye as he marched straight past the door, that didn't even register in his brain until he was three steps past it.

And that was when he froze.

He wasn't sure if he should keep walking, or step back and try –without looking- to let her know that the door was slightly open.

He also knew he definitely shouldn't look but at the same time... He couldn't help the sudden overwhelming curiosity.

Making a terrified, snap decision, Aram firmly shut his eyes, then took three steps straight backwards.

'Uh, Samar,' he whispered urgently through the door, and already internally berating himself for the fact that he was about to admit to her what he had seen, 'you might want to properly close this door. You have to watch it close, sometimes it catches.' There was a pause, and Aram's eyes clenched even more firmly shut as he suddenly wondered if something incredibly painful was about to happen to him... But no pain came.  
'Why are your eyes closed?' Came Samar's voice instead. It was curious, more than anything else, almost gently teasing, in fact.  
'You were changing...' Aram explained, each word slowly drawn in in lingering nervousness. He cautiously opened one eye to see her standing there, with her head poking around the door to look at him...

...And the remaining parts of her that he could see –one arm, and the shoulder it connected to- were totally bare.

'Still am,' she chirped softly, and Aram instantly whipped his gaze upwards to stare at the ceiling instead.  
'Uhhh, you remember the thing where I'm not supposed to see you uncovered, right?' He asked nervously. There was almost a laugh to his question, as if he couldn't believe they were having such a conversation... Or the way it was proving so difficult to stop his gaze from slipping sideways, for that matter.  
'It's just my arm,' Samar pointed out gently, though for the sake of his seeming discomfort, she pulled ever so slightly further back behind the door. His curiosity wasn't hard to miss either though, and she couldn't help but be amused by it.  
'And your shoulder which, you know-' Aram winced at what he was thinking of '-is pretty close to _other_ parts...'  
'That's why there's a door in front of me,' Samar mused, holding back a laugh.

There was an odd sense of calm and confidence Samar felt standing there in front of him, half undressed and covered only by the door –one that surprised even herself, given how vulnerable she could be in such a state... But at the same time she knew that of all the possible people to walk past her in that moment, Aram was the one she knew for sure that she could trust to be the respectful gentleman. Silence fell between them briefly, as Samar waited patiently for Aram to figure out the winner in the internal debate she could see playing out across his face.

...And then, with his shoulders raised in embarrassed tension, and his teeth biting his lip in awkward curiosity, he dropped his gaze from the ceiling and glanced back at her.

Her eye was surrounded in a deep black and blue bruise, but her gaze had focus once again. She was alert, and more than that, she smiled softly back at him, not at all seeming uncomfortable with him seeing her like that. Samar remained with the rest of her body hidden behind the door; after all, she was curiously daring, and thoroughly enjoying the thrill of pushing that boundary, though she was still too cautious to push it any further than that. Aram eyed the gentle curves of her arm all the way up to her shoulder, another breath hitching in his throat as he committed the detail to memory. There was a pair of tiny, dark freckles just on the front of her shoulder... Aram committed that detail to memory too. He forced himself to breathe out slowly, his eyes meeting hers, and a shy, embarrassed smile tugging guiltily at his lips as he did so. It felt good to do something so defiant of the rules, though it didn't stop him from feeling guilty over that enjoyment, no matter how content Samar seemed to be with it.

'Um,' Aram finally broke the silence, 'Father went next door to your house. He says your parents are back... And Shahin is with them.' Samar's eyes went wide in curious surprise; 'apparently he was playing soccer and forgot again, and then when he got home he was so tired he just fell asleep.' Samar took a breath, nodding slowly as she processed that information; Shahin having forgotten to walk her from the store wasn't ideal, but for the moment she was just glad that was all it was, and that he was safe.  
'Ok,' she murmured, shooting him a quick, appreciative smile –that quickly turned to a more mischievous one; 'then I should probably close the door and finish getting dressed now.'  
'Yep,' Aram agreed, nodding quickly. Still they both stood there, the wry smile on Samar's face as they stared back at one another.  
'I'm closing it now,' she chuckled.  
'Right.' Aram simply blinked at her. Samar waggled her eyebrows as the door inched slowly closed and she disappeared behind it in entirety. This time, it clicked closed rather than falling open again. Still, Aram stood there for a moment, releasing another slow, deep breath at what had just happened. Finally, she shook his head, trying to snap himself out it, but continued on his way down the hallway still feeling somewhat dazed and wondering what on earth it all meant...

/*/*/*/*

'Shahin, what were you thinking?' Arash bellowed, as soon as Samar returned home and he saw the bruise around her eye. Thankfully, Mehri had deduced that she didn't have a concussion as first thought, but it was the bright colouring of the bruise that _looked_ frightening. Arash was furious at what had happened –that Shahin's seemingly minor moment of forgetfulness had led to Samar being in the situation that it did.  
'I said I was sorry-' Shahin half-heartedly tried to protest, his head bowed in shame. It was as soon as he had seen that bruise that horrified, guilty pit had dug its way into his stomach, and he had barely been able to stop apologising to Samar ever since... Until his father cut him off by beginning to yell.  
'Look at her eye, Shahin,' Arash growled again, shaking his head in disgust at the way his son was staring so miserably at the floor.  
'It wasn't his faul-' Samar tried to interject, as Shahin next to her awkwardly lifted his head to glance at the bruise as ordered... But Arash cut her off too.  
'-She could have been killed if Aram wasn't with her,' he added, and still at the volume that was far louder than anything they usually ever heard. Arash tended to be softly spoken, only raising his voice when he absolutely had to make a verbal stand for something he believed in, or when one of his children did something he deemed _extremely_ dangerous... Which was rare.  
'But I _wasn't_ ,' Samar said quietly, but still firmly enough to catch her father's attention from grilling her brother. She was shaken by the incident with the vicious man the night before, and her head still ached from the impact but the reality was –as far as Samar was concerned- the man who had attacked her was out and about searching for his wife regardless of who did or did not walk her home. Even if Shahin had been walking with her, Samar was fairly certain the man would have still spotted her and at the very least, still screamed at her. She took a breath, preferring to focus on the fact that other than a black eye, she was fine... And a black eye wasn't going to scar her for life.

And then she turned on the spot, as something suddenly occurred to her, and glanced quizzically at her younger brother beside her.

'Shahin did you eat yesterday?' She asked, furrowing her brow in thought as she tried to remember the day before.  
'What?' Their father blinked, staring at her in confusion... But Samar and Shahin both ignored him.  
'No...' Shahin said slowly, shaking his head. A look of knowing regret began to etch its way across Samar's face.  
'Why not?' She asked again. Shahin shifted awkwardly back and forth on his feet, not wanting to answer given what had happened afterwards... But Samar simply raised an eyebrow, wanting him to answer.  
'You forgot to make my lunch before we left yesterday...' Shahin sighed, staring guiltily back at the floor once again. From a young age, he'd had that instinct to protect his sister no matter what, and even just admitting to their father that she had done something as silly as forgetting his lunch was something he hated having to do... But Samar was just as stubborn. She preferred to own up for her mistakes, especially those that impacted her brother, just as the very first mistakes Shahin was ever inclined to own up to were those that impacted her. And Samar knew from the moment Shahin stared guiltily back at the floor; her younger brother had known the second they had left home the morning before that he didn't have his lunch but he hadn't said anything, preferring to independently find himself another option if he could, rather than reminding her at the last minute and making her late for work.  
'And what happens when you play soccer and you haven't eaten?' She asked softly, almost like a mother asking a misbehaving child.  
'I get tired,' Shahin mumbled back.

Samar shifted her gaze again, this time back to her father as she sheepishly shrugged her shoulders. As far as she was concerned, if any level of fault could be found in Shahin for what happened the night before, so too did that fault lie with her. Shahin had been tasked with looking after her, just as she had been tasked with looking after him... And neither of them had really succeeded.

Arash shook his head as he eyed the both of them standing there, side by side with heads bowed in solidarity with one another.

'...I wonder, will you two _ever_ not stand up for one another?' He sighed, in utter disbelief.  
'Nope,' Samar said, gritting her teeth in determination just as Shahin hurriedly shook his head.  
'Good.' Both Samar and Shahin's eyes went wide in surprise, as Arash gave one more exasperated sigh of defeat and decided to head back to his home office... Pausing only to raise one eyebrow at Shahin in passing; 'don't _ever_ forget your sister again.'

* * *

Next up, back to fluff for a while in 'The Facts'


	5. The Facts

_**1998**_

Samar hummed happily to herself as she browsed the piles of books in the back room of the store, trying to figure out which to read next. The end of yet another work day, and with her black eye almost entirely faded by now, Samar was happy. Aram grinned to himself when he appeared in the doorway behind her, and observed her so delightedly off in her own little world. She enjoyed working, and Aram was simply happy to see her so happy. She was also good at her job –not that the workload of labelling and sorting books was huge, but Samar seemed to have an uncanny knack for organising them efficiently, and always remembering their contents.

'So many books,' Aram mused softly, and Samar turned instantly on the spot, grinning at him standing there.  
'I don't know how I'm supposed to pick just one to read at a time,' she sighed, in mock exasperation.  
'Well...' Aram thought out loud, taking the first step to cross the room towards her, 'what about that one?' Aram lifted his hand to point at one of the books in the pile and Samar turned her head, glancing over her shoulder at the suggestion...

Aram was too busy looking ahead of himself at the piles of books and the smile on Samar's face, that he didn't even see the empty boxes right in front of his feet.

' _Which_ one?' Samar asked absent-mindedly, her eyes scanning the row of titles in the pile on her far left.  
'The one with th-' Aram tried to respond...

...And then all of a sudden his feet gave out from under him before he could even finish the sentence. He had stepped into one of the half torn, empty, cardboard boxes... And in doing so, went sliding across the smooth, concrete floor. His arms flailed as he slid steadily towards Samar, desperate for something to cling to in hope of breaking the impending fall... But she was the only thing in front of him to hold onto. Aram's fingers grasped her shirt sleeves as she reached out in alarm to stop him falling, but it was too late.

Aram slid straight into her, his arms wrapped around her waist and accidentally pinning her against the desk behind her.

'Oomph,' Samar breathed in response, trying to hold both of them up at once.  
'I am _so sorry_ ,' Aram gasped, looking absolutely mortified at himself for landing on top of her. He instinctively recoiled the second he regained his balance, terrified that he had just done something incredibly inappropriate...

Samar however, didn't seem fazed at all as she held onto his arms, stopping him from tripping again when he tried to step back. In fact, she really couldn't help but laugh at the whole situation.

Aram had always been clumsy.

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1992**_

It took one look at the uncomfortable expression on Aram's face and the way he seemed to be hobbling, and favouring one foot when he walked Shahin back to the front gate for Samar to know when she spotted them through the front window of her house, that he had injured his ankle, or his foot, or his leg, or _something_ , again. With a small shake of her head, she darted through her house, sneaking unseen past her mother in the kitchen, and then across the garden to the fence, waiting for him. Aram was always clumsy; he was incredibly bright, but physically he didn't even begin to compare. Unlike Shahin, sports was one of his least favourite things to do at school, and it showed.

By the time he reached the hole in the fence, Aram was practically gnashing his teeth in annoyance at himself.

'What did you do this time?' Samar's soft, gently teasing voice sailed through the hole in the fence the moment he appeared.

'Tripped over a ball and rolled my ankle or something,' he grumbled back, letting out a sigh of complete and utter exasperation. 'I don't know, it just hurts when I walk on it. I'm sure it'll be fine tomorrow though.'  
'You _really_ should be more careful,' she replied flatly, but offered him a small smile all the same.  
'I _try_ ,' Aram muttered back. It took everything Samar had, not to accidentally let out a laugh at the indignant expression on his face, no matter how sympathetic she was.  
'How bad is it?' She asked instead, softly this time. Aram took two steps back from the hole in the fence, and lifted up the bottom edge of his trouser leg _just_ enough for her to see. Samar furrowed her brow and tilted her head as she gazed through the gap, studying the tiny amount of swelling. It really didn't seem too bad, perhaps a mild sprain at the most, but she could easily see why it would hurt. 'You need to rest it, ice it, strap it, and elevate it,' Samar spoke again, ticking each of the four steps off on her fingers as she quickly rattled them all off at once. Aram simply blinked at her in surprise. 'What?' Samar shrugged nonchalantly, 'it's basic first aid.' Aram shook his head in disbelief for a moment, then finally a tiny smile tugged at his lips.  
'Do you know _something_ about _everything?'_ He asked in amazement; it was far from the first time she had rattled off seemingly inconsequential facts to him. It was almost like they never ended.  
'No,' Samar murmured, then bowed her head somewhat sheepishly. 'But I read a lot while Shahin's at school.' Aram's face instantly lit up at that; he too, loved to read.  
'You must have a lot of books,' he said sagely, and stepped quickly back to the gap in the fence. With his father owning a bookstore, Aram had access to pretty much any book he wanted, but he wondered for a moment if Samar had any he hadn't read.  
'Not really.' Samar shrugged again, well aware that Aram easily had far more books than she did. 'I just read them over again after a while, so I remember the details... And Maman teaches me things too.'  
'...Like all the baking, and the gardening, and the first aid?' Aram asked softly, eyeing the hint of pink flushing the edges of her cheeks; she seemed almost embarrassed to admit that she read the same few books over and over again but really, Aram didn't mind at all. Samar gave a reluctant nod, but all Aram could do was smile. 'I don't know most of that stuff,' he admitted, and Samar's bowed head snapped straight back up to meet his gaze with a sheepish grin. 'Could you teach me?' Finally, Samar broke into a wide, wry smile and bobbed her head happily.  
'Sure,' she said, all traces of embarrassment now gone from her face. 'You're definitely going to need to know first aid if you keep rolling that ankle.'

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1998**_

'I'm _so_ sorry,' Aram said again, for what was easily the fourth time in barely half as many minutes. They were tangled there now, arms and legs wrapped awkwardly around one another's against the desk.  
'It's fine,' Samar replied, between breaths of laughter, 'really.' Somewhere in the back of Aram's mind it registered that she seemed to make no move whatsoever to free herself from her position stuck between him and the desk, but more than anything all he could focus on was the way her eyes crinkled and her entire face lit up; it was a warm, genuine laugh, the kind that was almost contagious in its joy... And if Aram had thought before that she couldn't possibly be more beautiful before, he was pretty sure now that he had just proven himself wrong. A guilty grin began to etch its way across his face, taking in her laughter, her smile, and the closeness as she held him lingering there... For what was probably two seconds far too long.

Without even realising he was doing it, Aram pushed the hair back off her face as she laughed –it seemed like such an inconsequential gesture now, after what had happened in his living room and everything else the following morning...

...And then he kissed her.

Not on the cheek, as she had kissed him weeks earlier, but on the lips. It was shy, gentle kiss at first, but there she was, contentedly laughing in his arms, and all of a sudden Aram couldn't stop himself from tipping his head towards hers, closing his eyes, and pressing that soft kiss to her lips.

...And then alarm bells went off in his head as he realised exactly what it was that he was doing.

'Oh my god, _I am so sorry_ ,' Aram gasped in horror, recoiling from her, and hurriedly trying to pull himself away from her. He wanted to smack his head against a wall or something, for being so stupid; first he fell on top of her, and then he _kissed_ her. He was so mortified, that for a second, he didn't even notice the shy smile lighting up Samar's face. She reached out, grasping his fingers tightly in hers and pulled him back towards her before he could even really get away.  
'Don't be,' she whispered back softly. Aram's eyes snapped back to hers, wide and buzzed from the adrenaline and horror, and clearly still processing her words. Samar tilted her head towards his, nearly leaning her forehead against his, and hovered there for one second of breathless anticipation... Before her lips came crashing back against his... Her arms slid over his shoulders, her fingers interlocking behind his neck and holding him close to her. Aram's arms slid just as quickly around her waist, running his hands in gentle circles down her back, and holding her just close. The kiss was gentle at first... Then passionate as neither of them really wanted to stop.

'Samar?' A familiar voice from the front door of the store made them both instantly spring apart. Shahin, slightly early to pick her up from work this time as he had often been since the incident nearly three weeks earlier. He was all too cautious about the possibility of forgetting to walk her home again now, and so each day he practically raced to the store from school. Samar tried quickly to catch her breath, both her and Aram having already been starting to run out of air as neither of them wanted to break away. She glanced back at him, smiling just as guiltily as he was –only there was a flash of pink rapidly crossing his face as well. There was a pause as they lingered there, staring back at one another, neither of them really wanting her to have to leave... But she had to.  
'Go,' Aram whispered quickly, 'if you don't, he's going to come in here looking for you...' Samar paused one second longer, before finally –and reluctantly- disentangling herself from him –after all, if Shahin came into the back room and found them, all hell would break loose. Samar paused just long enough to rest her hand on one of his cheeks, and dot another, longing and affectionate kiss to the other one.  
'I'll see you tomorrow,' she murmured, shooting him a quick grin before darting out of the room and back out into the main area of the store where Shahin was waiting. Aram nodded to himself, still somewhat stunned for a moment as he watched her go... Before breaking into a wide smile.

Out in the main area, Samar tried desperately to regain some sense of composure. Her heart felt like it was pounding in her chest, and it was almost painfully impossible not to smile like she was in some kind of a delighted daze.

'Hey,' she greeted Shahin, hoping her voice sounded casual. Shahin nodded back, resting his arm protectively around her shoulders as he walked her out of the store.  
'Where's Aram?' He asked slowly. Samar furrowed her brow and glanced curiously back to him walking beside her; there was something odd about his voice, like he too, was trying to sound casual.  
'In the back room, sorting out the last few things before he goes home too,' Samar answered, gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb to indicate the room in question, as they walked out of the door and onto the street. 'Why?' Shahin gave a frustrated sigh, as if fighting an internal battle within himself about what to say.  
'I'm not sure if you working in that bookstore is a good idea,' he muttered under his breath, his teeth gritted and brow furrowed pensively.  
'Why?' Asked Samar casually again, but against her better judgement. Somewhere inside though, she was panicking, wondering if Shahin somehow knew what was going on all along.  
'He likes you,' Shahin replied, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, 'I know that for a fact. I see the way he looks at you, and I don't want him to get the wrong idea and take advantage of you. Samar gave a slow nod of instant understanding; Shahin didn't know what was going on, but he was nervous that such a thing _was_ about to happen. He was so desperate to make up for his transgression that ultimately had ended up in her black eye, that at the moment, he was overprotective to the point of being suspicious of, well, everyone... And of course, Samar spending time in Aram's store was the first and most obvious thing that could set off his radar.  
'You don't have to worry,' Samar tried to reassure him, offering her little brother a soft smile and leaning into his side as they continued walking. In part, she was even mildly amused that not only would Shahin suspect his close friend and neighbour that he knew had always been good to them –all because he was so worried about _her_ \- but that he was missing something that really, was happening right under his nose. Though, she wasn't about to laugh; not only would that potentially reveal the truth but more than anything, but it was also unnecessarily dismissive when her brother was simply trying to look out for her. Shahin eyed her warily, but Samar nodded again, determined to reassure him; 'he's respectful, even Father thinks so, ok?'

* * *

Next up; 'The Gestures'


	6. The Gestures

_**1998**_

Months went on. Affectionate gestures when nobody was looking became such the norm that half the time, neither Samar or Aram even realised they were doing it. Fingertips brushing comfortably against each other's hands, arms, or backs, absent-mindedly searching for one another in passing became frequent while working in the back room of the store, as did the kiss good morning, the kiss good night, and every other kiss in between. The problem then was, staying alert and staying discreet; with the affection so common when people weren't looking, the gestures became habit... And when they became habit, it was difficult to stop them when people _were_ looking and Samar and Aram were _supposed_ to seem as if they hardly knew each other at all.

At the very least, straight from that first kiss, they now made a point of one of them being clearly visible in the store area ready and waiting when Shahin arrived in the evening, so that they always seemed apart and his suspicions could start to fade.

In private though, there was little between them that remained unshared. Thoughts, feelings, frustration at the delicate nature of the world around them were common, and daring conversations.  
'Do you ever wish that we could just...' Aram spoke up suddenly, as he ducked into the back room, searching for something, before trailing off again. He shook his head bitterly; 'go to dinner together or something?' Samar glanced up from the book she was reading, curled up on the armchair in the corner of the room.  
'Or watch a movie together?' She sighed, as she nodded in response. Aram nodded back, both of them catching each other's eye for a moment as they thought it over. It was the never ending dilemma; they had read about so many romantic gestures in all the books they passed between one another, and wished desperately now that they could just have a simple evening to themselves, but that too was more or less impossible when they had to be discreet. 'Yeah, all those sorts of things,' Samar murmured her agreement, as Aram pulled something down from the shelf beside her armchair, and ducked to dot an affectionate kiss to the top of her head as he did so. 'It would be nice.'

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1993**_

It was one time at home, when Aram was supposed to be tutoring Shahin, that they first held hands –albeit accidentally. Samar, taking the moment to be clumsy instead of Aram for once, slipped on the tiled floor while crossing the kitchen to leave a plate of fresh baking on the table where he and Shahin sat. Instinctively, Aram's arm whipped out, reaching for her, and taking her hand as she slipped past him to stop her from falling.

Samar's gaze snapped to his the _second_ she regained her balance.

Aram's eyes went wide in alarm a second later as he realised; he was still holding her hand.

And yet somehow, neither of them moved to let go.

It was the first time they had ever really touched at all, without counting the occasional brushing against one another in passing things back and forth... It was the first time that Aram's skin had ever really lingered against hers. Aram's heart pounded in his chest, utterly terrified; that split second that passed so quickly that Shahin, and Samar's parents barely even noticed, felt like an eternity.

'Thank you,' Samar murmured, as quietly as she did quickly. The slightest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she bobbed her head gratefully, before gently pulling her hand from his.  
'That's ok,' Aram whispered back. Samar hesitated for a second, then quickly dropped the plate of cookies on the table and darted away again before anyone noticed. Aram watched her go, struggling to concentrate on the task at hand for a moment. He shook his head, forcing himself to stare back at the pages of Shahin's book, or the plate of cookies, or _anything_ really... But despite finally bringing his attention back to what he was supposed to be doing, part of his thoughts remained lingering on his hand, forcing his fingers to curl around themselves absent-mindedly against the tablecloth, and desperately trying to remember the sensation of her soft skin against his.

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1998**_

The feeling of closeness between them becoming habit proved to be difficult not just while trying to be discreet in public, but also at the fence. Sitting in the grass of their respective gardens after work, with that row of crooked wooden panels between them was the first thing to make both of them painfully aware of just how close they had become, and just how much the fence kept them apart. Samar, without even realising it, let out a miserable sigh as she listened to Aram's soft voice read to her from the other side of that hole in the fence. She had her eyes closed, with her head leaning against the plank... But it was that absence of his arm around her that she could feel most of all as his voice brought those stories to life. Samar tried to push the thought from her mind of just how strange it felt now to be missing that contact... As well as what that very feeling meant. She was so determined to leave, and she was nearly able to do so now –but if she already missed him when just separated by a fence that was less than an inch thick, how was she going to feel if she moved half a world away?

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1994**_

It was nearly a year after the first occasion, that they held hands for the second time –and not nearly as accidentally.

A nasty stomach bug made the rounds, striking down Aram's mother until his father had to call Mehri and Samar over from next door to help care for her. Accompanied by Arash, Samar and her mother busied themselves in Aram's home, keeping an eye on Mehri's fever, making sure she drank enough water, and cooking enough meals to last them a few more days until Mehri was better. Aram tried to help where he could too, having watched his mother cooking and listened to Samar talking about cooking enough times to have picked up on a few things –and much to his father's surprise- but the anxiety swirling around in his mind made it difficult to concentrate, and more than anything he ended up just getting in the way.

In the hustle and bustle of all the extra people moving about the house –Nasrin ducking into Mehri's room to take her some more food, and Arash pausing just briefly to talk business and politics in another room with Naveed- nobody realised that Samar and Aram had accidentally been left alone together in the kitchen.

'She's going to be ok,' Samar's low voice jolted Aram from his mind's anxious wanderings. He stood in the internal archway at the end of the kitchen –the entrance to the hallway that led through the rest of the house and most importantly, to his parents' room. Aram was hovering there, wanting to make sure his mother was feeling better, but not really sure what to do. He blinked for a moment, glancing sideways to note Samar now standing there by his side after finishing the dishes.  
'I know,' he murmured back quietly, 'I just...' Aram shook his head as he trailed off, nervously biting his lip and he staring back down the hallway.  
'You worry about her.' Samar nodded as she softly finished the sentence for him. Aram let out a sigh, his eyes not quite meeting hers... Until her fingers slowly curling around his jolted his attention back to her once again. She gave his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze, then quickly let go again, cautious of being seen. Samar dropped her gaze, bowing her head and staring awkwardly at the floor. Aram did much the same, though the tiniest hint of a grateful smile tugged at his lips just as the faint pink blush began to tinge his cheeks -his fifteen year old wisdom far enough beyond his years to worry about future parental health, but still lacking in the knowledge of what to do when the girl who was the love of his life actually dared to hold his hand… Even if it _was_ just for a second.

Regardless, the small gesture was just enough to snap him out of his nervous headspace.

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1998**_

'What's all this?' Samar asked in amazement, walking into the back room of the bookstore early in the morning a few days later. Still, it was an effort to shake away that newly realised inner conflict between her desire to leave and the growing feelings for Aram that she still wasn't quite sure what to make of, but there was an odd sense of calm that washed over her, easing those anxieties the moment she stepped into the back room and saw him there, smiling to himself as he seemed to be setting a table right in the centre. There were boxes and containers piled up in the middle, one of which was filled with something that Samar couldn't quite see, but her nose could certainly smell. The aroma of fresh cooking wafted through the air, filling the entire room.  
'Lunch,' Aram said simply, grinning as if all too pleased with himself. 'Not the same as dinner, but I figure... It's not as easy to do that here.' He paused for a second, the grin faltering in favour of a sheepish shrug of his shoulders; 'Shahin might interrupt.'  
'He might,' Samar chuckled as she nodded her agreement. She glanced down at one of the containers, eyeing what appeared to be some kind of stew; 'did you make this?'  
'Mmhmm,' Aram hummed to himself. Then he furrowed his brow, biting his lip for a second as he too, eyed the delicious smelling stew; 'I don't know how good it is though.' Still, his cooking skills were limited to the things Samar told him and the rare occasions his mother allowed him to help in the kitchen... Not that Samar seemed to take issue with that particular fact. She peered into the container, popping the corner of the lid and reaching forwards to sip her finger in the sauce; 'hey, not _yet_ ,' Aram scolded –albeit teasingly- as he gently swatted her hand away. 'It's too early.' Samar cracked a mischievous grin as Aram shook his head in mock exasperation and opened the next box –a cardboard one this time. From within, Aram pulled out a trio of wide-based, light purple candles, then set them on the table.  
'Where did those come from?' Samar asked softly –even though she knew the answer.  
'That stall that you like at the market,' Aram murmured back, tilting his head and staring at the layout of the candles before shuffling them just ever so slightly to form a nicer triangle.  
'You bought my favourite candles, just so that we could have lunch?' A wry smile lit up Samar's face as she asked the question.  
'A _romantic_ lunch,' Aram corrected her, 'I figure if we have to make do with having our date in secret, we may as well at least make it a nice one.'  
'A date, huh?'  
'Well... I did forget to get dessert...' Aram shot her a guilty grin.  
'You know,' Samar began, tugging a small box of her own out of her bag and setting it down on the table with a flourish, 'I think I might have that covered.' Aram paused, for a second, catching her eye before peering into the box.  
'...Rice flour cookies?' He gasped in delight, staring down at the whole pile of them inside. 'You picked a good day to make my favourite...' He mused, finally returning Samar's gaze with a quizzical grin; 'and you brought in a whole batch?' It took no words for both of them to know that they had both had the same sort of idea; with both their respective parents away as of the day before –Samar's visiting her grandparents again, and Aram's taking a weekend trip for themselves now that his father was free of responsibilities to the store- and with the idea of longing for a real meal together at the forefront of both their minds, they had both embraced the freedom of taking over their respective kitchens without watchful and questioning eyes wondering why.  
'Great minds think alike?' Samar chuckled. Hey eyes crinkled as she laughed softly, in that way that Aram loved more than anything.  
'Hmm,' Aram hummed again, before taking the two steps towards her, brushing the loose strands of hair off her face, and pressing a soft kiss to her lips as she leaned contently into him; 'I guess they do.'

* * *

Next up; 'The Night' and just a reminder that's the one with the awkward-first-time smut.


	7. The Night

_**A/N**_ Just a reminder that this is the one with the awkward-first-time smut. Compared to some smut out there I wouldn't call it super graphic, but again you can skip it if you like. It's pretty much from the third /*/*/*/* onwards, though they discuss it between the second and third.

* * *

 _ **1998**_

It was later that evening that Samar crept out into the back garden again. The lunch date from earlier in the day still had a smile fighting to be free on her face any time Shahin wasn't looking... But it was late enough now –the work day was over, Shahin had walked her home, they'd had dinner and he had gone to bed, assuming that she would do the same- that Samar could smile freely, without anybody seeing it. It was dark outside now, and the stars twinkled brightly in the cloudless sky. Samar stared up at it, smiling all the more so at those tiny, bright lights, as she crept across the garden to the fence. She had no idea for sure whether Aram would be there or not, but it just felt right, as she carried her small plate of supper out into the garden, with the cool breeze of the evening tickling her arms under the loose sleeves of her dress, to see if he was.

'Evening,' his quiet voice greeted her as she approached the fence. Samar's gaze snapped straight to the hole in the fence, spying his shadow there in the darkness.  
'You're here,' she murmured happily, resting one hand against the wooden panel of the fence.  
'It's too quiet inside my house when my parents are away,' Aram muttered back. Samar bit her lip.  
'Mine too,' she sighed, 'especially when Shahin's gone to bed already as well. He'll be dead to the world until the sun comes up again.'  
'So it's just us,' Aram mused softly, 'did you bring supper too?' Samar held up her plate of soft cheese, crackers, fruit and nuts, for him to see, even though through the hole in the darkness, he could probably only just make out the outline.  
'How about that...' Samar shook her head in amusement at the sound of his soft chuckle. 'In a way, we could have dinner together, after all.'

There was a pause, both of them silently wondering the same thing at the same time, even though she had initially been joking.

'...Do you think I could fit through?' Samar spoke again, earnest this time as she echoed both their thoughts. Both of them gazed curiously at the plank, remembering the day Aram had struggled to stretch the gap wide enough to slip a book through... But that was years ago now, and as time had passed so too had the strength of the wonky nail Samar's father had hammered in to hold the loose plank partly in place. It hung more loosely now, even going so far as to rattle against the rest of the fence when there was a strong enough breeze.  
'You really want to try that?' Aram asked warily, though his voice too, rang with curiosity. Samar shrugged, still staring at the wonky plank.  
'Nobody's looking into either of our back gardens...' She murmured. The fingers of her free hand curled around the edge of the plank, testing its hold on the fence. It never had been difficult to wriggle it _slightly_ out of place, but they had given up testing the gap after those first few attempts years earlier had proved futile.  
'Ok, then.'

Samar tugged at the plank, opening up that gap once again as soon as Aram agreed. From the other side of the fence, Aram pushed the plank forwards... Until the gap between it and the next one was as stretched as far as possible.

Samar studied the space; it was borderline. She couldn't quite tell from looking at it whether or not she would fit through. She reached her hand through first, so that Aram could take her plate, then cautiously edged her way through... Head first, then her shoulder, then half sideways half twisting her way through until the plank came almost painfully close to her hips. Samar gritted her teeth, determined not to be caught halfway through now. She twisted a little more, and gave the plank another shove... And then all of a sudden she slipped all the way through.

Samar and Aram exchanged stunned glances as she took her feet... On _his_ side of the fence.

With a disbelieving grin, Aram handed back her plate with a flourish.  
'Supper?' He chuckled. Samar grinned back, just as Aram's own expression faltered for a moment. 'Actually,' he spoke again, hesitantly this time, 'since you're over this side of the fence, you may as well just come inside where it's warmer.' Samar simply gave a teasing waggle of her eyebrows, and gently took his arm for him to lead the way as she responded;  
'Sure, why not?'

/*/*/*/*

There was a notable feeling of calm and comfort in the air inside Aram's living room –not the slightly on edge feeling of knowing they were overstepping the boundaries and had the potential to be caught. The lights were low, there was soft music floating through the air from the radio –Aram's earlier attempt to break the silence of being alone in the house- and sitting across the small dining table from one another with their plates of supper while discussing their day felt exactly as if that was what they were supposed to be doing.

The empty plates were eventually left forgotten on the table.

Aram took Samar by the hand, leading her from the table towards the centre of the living room. He held her close, allowing nothing but the music to fill the air between them. Her arms slid over his shoulders, and his around her waist, both of them swaying gently back and forth across the room in time with the music. It was peaceful; Samar allowed her eyes to fall softly closed and her head to rest contently against Aram's shoulder. They stayed there like that, dancing slowly together all the way until the end of the song, finally only pulling slightly apart when the next one to start was far more upbeat. Samar chuckled to herself as her head snapped quickly up from Aram's shoulder when the song changed; Aram simply gave her a lopsided grin and a nonchalant shrug. He took her hands again, choosing to adjust the dance to the music instead, and suddenly twirl her around. Samar's laugh grew all the more louder as she spun away from him, adding her own flourish to the movement and allowing her tunic to billow softly around her cotton trousers. She twirled across the room, Aram laughing too as he watched her... And then his face quickly crumpled, and he darted forwards trying to stop her as he saw what was about to happen next.

But it was too late; Samar twirled straight into the counter, and knocked the glass of water she had left sitting there earlier... Splashing it all the way down the front of her dress.

'Ahhh,' she burst out, as the sudden cold splash made its impact. Aram grimaced, rushing forwards to reach for a tea towel and offer it to her but it was easy to see; the tea towel wasn't going to be enough.  
'Hang on,' Aram murmured softly, 'I'll get you a proper towel.' He paused, eyeing her in concern; 'you're not hurt are you?' Samar shook her head quickly, offering him a small smile; she had bumped into the counter, but she had bumped into the middle edge of it, not the corner that hurt far more on impact. The momentary painful shock in her side was already fading.  
'I'm ok,' she reassured him, 'but I think I might need to take this off to let it dry properly.' Aram blinked for a second, then his eyes went wide as he realised she was gesturing at her dress.  
'O-oh,' he began, 'ok, do you want one of my shirts as well, or...?' Aram left the question hanging awkwardly in the air, unsure what to really do in such a situation.  
'No, it's ok,' Samar shook her head, with a soft, teasing chuckle, 'I'll put my jacket back on over my pants, and then I'll be all covered up again.' Aram nodded slowly in understanding; only a few days remained of the year, and with the cool of the evening combined with the cool of the changing seasons, Samar had come in with a light jacket over her dress, which still sat over the back of her chair. She ducked past him, giving his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze in passing as she did so, then plucked her jacket from the chair and hurried towards the bathroom.

Aram raised his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head in amused exasperation.

/*/*/*/*

'Hey, I've got a towel for you,' Aram called through the bathroom door a couple of minutes later, 'I'm just going to leave it out her-' Aram moved to drop the towel at the foot of the door as he spoke, then turn and walk away so that Samar could have some privacy while she dried herself off... But the door opened before Aram could even finish his sentence, making him freeze. Samar poked her head around the door, reaching out to take the towel from him, but that wasn't what caught Aram's attention first.

Behind the door, and with the exception of the thin strap of her bra, her arms and shoulders were bare... Again.

Not that such a thing really surprised Aram –after all, that was the entire reason he had planned to leave the towel in front of the door and then walk away- but Samar's complete confidence in standing there in front of him like that, with only a door between them, that still _did_ surprise him. Samar leaned further around the door, resting her palm against his cheek and tilting her head to capture his lips with hers. Aram bent to her will, gladly... His arms winding their way around the edge of the door and around her waist, instinctively holding her close as her kissed her, as he always did. Samar leaned further and further into him, nestling herself all too contently against his chest, and slipping her own arms across his shoulders. For a moment, the fact that for once, Aram was wrapped around her bare skin, barely registered in his brain. The smell of her shampoo filled his nostrils, and his fingertips traced the soft curves of her waist and hips... It was overwhelming, in all the right ways.

...Or perhaps, the wrong ones.

A stirring feeling began in his stomach, and very quickly worked its way through parts of his body that sent alarm bells ringing instantly in Aram's head.  
'Uh,' he gasped, hurriedly disentangling himself from her and pulling away. A blush nearly as red as an overripe tomato spread rapidly across his face; 'uh, this is branching very quickly towards very dangerous territory.' Samar bit her lip, ducking back behind the bathroom door again as she noted him staring awkwardly up at the ceiling. And yet, if the embarrassed blush on his face, the way he was shifting awkwardly on his feet, and the way his lips had locked with hers so passionately was any indication, Aram seemed to have been thoroughly enjoying himself just as much as she had been, before he remembered what they were doing and where they were. Once she was safely back behind the door, her shoulder and arm once again the only thing left exposed, Aram lowered his gaze back to her, meeting her gaze with a guilty grin. Kissing her was one thing –he was used to that, and comfortable with it now, too- but kissing her while she was half undressed was a completely different level, and completely uncharted territory. They were dangerously pushing the boundary with their discreet, smaller gestures already, as it was... Though that didn't stop the longing for each other.

'Do you want to...' Samar began slowly, daringly... Then she left the question half finished, and lingering in the air between them like a temptation right above their heads, just out of reach. Aram blinked, the exact meaning of the words instantly understood in his mind.  
'Um...' Aram bit his lip, taking a breath to try and steady himself. 'We probably shouldn't...'  
'That's not what I asked,' Samar murmured back, holding his gaze. He deliberately chose not to answer her question, and Samar knew it. Aram was battling it out inside, torn between what intrigued him, and what he thought was the right thing. Aram hesitated before responding; he enjoyed that closeness between them so much, and that was just when he was able to put his arm around her, hold her hand, or kiss her cheek. This, the very thing Samar was suggesting, was something that was so incredibly tempting... But Aram was all too cautious of how scandalous what they were doing already was, and he was even more cautious about potentially pushing her too far, or making her feel like she had to do something that made her uncomfortable.  
'I don't want you to feel uncomfortab-'  
'-I don't,' she softly cut him off. There was an odd calm about her voice, where it was both soft and matter of fact. She was deeply curious about what could come next, and not at all afraid. She was tired of following the strict rules they were _supposed_ to live by. All she wanted now, more than anything, was him. She wanted Aram as close as possible but at the same time, she was just as concerned about making him uncomfortable, as he was about her. 'But I don't want you to feel that way either,' she added. Aram held her gaze for another beat longer, processing her words, her voice, the simultaneously adoring and intrigued expression on her face.  
'Are you sure?' He breathed, taking that one cautious step back towards her, and gently brushing the hair back from her face.  
'Yes,' Samar murmured back, tilting her head to rest it against his palm. She craned her neck, leaning just ever so slightly further around the door, while still leaving herself mostly covered... But enough to reach forwards and press a soft kiss to his lips. Aram leaned in further too, kissing her deeper still.  
'I don't want to hurt you,' Aram whispered, breaking just long enough to breathe. His anxious eyes sought hers, silently asking one more time... But Samar simply offered him a soft smile as she responded, creeping back out from around the door and finding that comfortable position in his arms once more, and enjoying the tingling sensation that spread across her skin as his fingertips traced her sides and wound around her waist again...  
'You won't.'

/*/*/*/*

The bathroom quickly became the bedroom, with Aram picking Samar up and carrying her the two doors down the hallway. Her legs, still cloaked in those soft cotton trousers, wrapped around his hips. Aram turned as he stumbled into the room, completely distracted by his total focus on her, before finally lowering himself backwards onto the edge of the bed, sitting there with her now straddling him. His hand resting comfortably against the small of her back felt her arch closer towards him there, while her head slowly leaned backwards as his lips traced all the way from her lips down her jaw, down her neck and then her collarbone. Samar made quick work of his shirt, slipping open each button from his neck all the way down and then pushing it back over his shoulders. She let out a soft moan, the tingling of her skin spreading rapidly all across her body as Aram's hands explored every inch and every curve of her body. An unfamiliar, but exceptionally pleasant warmth began to spread between her legs at the same time, and she leaned forwards again, nuzzling happily into his neck. Her hands began their own exploration in time with his, now that his shirt was out of the way... They ran down his neck, over his shoulders, down his chest, tracing the outlines of his muscles... And then further down still. Aram took a sharp breath in as her soft fingertips danced ever closer to the top of his trousers, making Samar chuckle against his neck. The feeling of her warm breath there did little to ease his own tingling sensation... The one that Samar could already begin to feel pressed against her thigh. Aram's hands swept quickly up her back again, all the way up to the clasp that was key to the only thing left between him and the only remaining curves that he hadn't yet explored. He fumbled with the clasp, struggling for a second... Samar shifted on his lap, twisting one arm around her back to help him there while still nuzzling into his neck. Within seconds, her bra fell free from her shoulders. Aram's fingers continued their slow journey up her sides until they brushed against the sides of her breasts, and then he paused... Taking a deep breath as he took in the sight before him. Samar leaned back again, just enough to study the momentarily awestruck expression crossing his face. It was one more boundary that he was nervous to cross, and needed a moment to process. Samar shifted on his lap once more, shuffling forwards as if to suggest that she was completely content with the turn of events. Aram gazed down, studying the curves of her chest... The exact curves that he had never been allowed to see before. Finally, he allowed himself to proceed, cupping one in the palm of his hand and kneading it gently, and then going further still. Aram tilted his head, continuing his lips' trail from her collarbone all the way down the centre of her chest as he did so. Both sets of hands explored frantically, desperately, searching for every last inch of each other's bodies in that first quest for discovery.

Neither set of trousers lasted much longer, both of them flung as quickly and unceremoniously to the floor as Aram's shirt, before Aram finally rose and then turned, tipping Samar gently sideways so that she lay back on the bed underneath him. He stared down, his gaze sweeping across every part of her and for a moment, he was completely overwhelmed by her beauty. There was a thrill in taking it all in, a sort of thrill that he had never felt before... And the wide smile and the way Samar's eyes were dark with pleasure was all Aram needed to know that she felt exactly the same. He bowed his head once more, catching her lips in his again and then opening them slightly, letting her in deeper. He felt a tug at his waist, at the elastic band at the top of his boxers, and he gave no protest. Though there was a pause for a second, once they disappeared. Aram gazed back at Samar quizzically, and then shifted with a hint of discomfort; this time it was her turn to take in the sight of something she had never seen before. A soft blush crossed her face along with the intrigued smile.  
'Sorry,' she mumbled, her eyes crinkling with a hint of embarrassment. 'It just doesn't look quite like how I imagined it.' Aram simply blinked at her for a second, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious.  
'How did you imagine it?' He asked, equally wary and incredulous. Samar shrugged sheepishly, the embarrassment now completely clear across her face.  
'Not sure,' she murmured back, before shooting him a more apologetic, though awkwardly amused look. 'Sorry. Again.' Aram chuckled and shook his head, totally at a loss for how else to respond to such a comment. Samar laughed softly too, having been worried for a moment that her inability to stop herself from blurting it out, would completely ruin the moment... But instead Aram just grinned at her, and pressed an adoring kiss to her flushed cheek.  
'It's ok,' he said, trying to stop himself from chuckling further, 'it is a weird looking appendage, I guess, especially, uh-' a pink blush began to spread across his own cheeks '-right now.' Samar grinned back, all semblance of awkwardness now gone between them in their shared amusement. She leaned in to kiss him again, and he sunk closer into her, the tingling of her bare skin only increasing further as it made full contact with his. Finally, his fingertips began to flitter across the top edge of her underwear and paused there, once more silently waiting, and asking for permission. Without a word, Samar shimmied out of them... And then, there was nothing left between them.

'Ready?' Aram breathed cautiously into her ear. Samar nodded against the pillow, turning her head just enough for her eyes to meet his; she was ready, and she could definitely feel him resting and ready against her thigh now too... Aram gave her a small, nervous nod, taking a breath... Before finally reaching down, guiding himself as he slid into her. Samar gasped in pleasure as his fingers brushed against her warmth, and then again with a hint of pain as he entered and her muscles adjusted to take him in. Aram recoiled at the gasp; 'should I stop?' He asked quickly, anxious that he had hurt her.  
'No,' Samar murmured, quickly shaking her head despite her wince. She knew it would hurt a little at first; her mother had told her as much the first time she had sat Samar down to explain it all –that way, she would know exactly what to expect should anything not go as planned. Samar smiled up at Aram as the pain quickly began to fade; 'keep going,' she insisted. And so, Aram did. Clumsily, at first, though they both very quickly figured it out. Samar moaned in pleasure as Aram found his steady rhythm, and then slowly began to quicken in pace. He nuzzled into her neck as she wrapped her legs tighter around him, drawing him ever closer into her... Until the sensation was so intense, it was completely overwhelming. Both let out gasps as Samar was rocked by that first round of delightful spasms.. And Aram flooded into her barely seconds later. Both fighting to catch their breath, neither could wipe the ecstatic grins from their faces.

'As crazy as that was,' Samar gasped, pausing only to tilt her head back and kiss him once more, 'I don't regret it for a second, do you?' Aram shook his head, the mischievous grin on his face only widening more as he did so. Slowly and carefully, he rolled off her, landing beside her on the bed. Samar rolled onto her side, then curled into his, resting her head against his shoulder and humming happily to herself as his arm crept around to hold her close. Aram dotted another adoring kiss to the top of her head... Before both their eyes slowly flickered closed.

* * *

Next up; 'The Morning'


	8. The Morning

_**1998**_

The sunlight sneaking in through the crack in the curtains made Samar begin to stir. She rolled onto her other side in her half-asleep state, burying her face into Aram's shoulder to block out the light, but that only made him begin to stir as well. His arm, fallen to rest against the mattress during the night, wrapped back against her waist once more.  
'Morning,' he mumbled, his eyes still closed as he nuzzled into her hair in his own attempt to block out the light. Samar mumbled something completely unintelligible in response, her words muffled by his shoulder. Aram chuckled softly, running one hand in gentle circles along her back and shoulders, her soft skin still bare from the night before. Samar hummed under her breath, completely comfortable with waking up wrapped around him under the sheets...

...And then her brain clicked into gear and her eyes suddenly snapped open.

' _Oh, it's morning_ ,' she gasped, sitting bolt upright in the bed next to him. Aram blinked up at her, his own eyes flickering open unhappily in response to her sudden departure from his arms as he tried to process what that meant.  
'Morning...' Aram mumbled sleepily to himself... And then it clicked. 'Oh no,' he groaned. He smacked his palm to his forehead in frustration; 'we fell asleep.' Samar bit her lip, staring anxiously back at him.  
'Shahin will be awake by now,' she began to fret, 'and I'm not at home.' Samar pushed back the covers and swung her legs around to jump straight out of bed and hurriedly pick up her clothes from the floor. Aram followed suit, their state of total undress now the last thing from either of their minds unlike the fascination of the night before. 'Where's my dress?' Samar asked, her eyes scanning the room, searching for it. Aram blinked, trying to remember where everything went in the frenzy of clothes and hands.  
'Uh,' Aram began, thinking it over. 'Oh, the bathroom,' he gasped. 'You already took it off before I brought you the towel. Hang on, I'll get it.' He darted out of the room, his underwear the only thing he had managed to put back on so far. Samar continued scrambling to pull back on everything else she could reach, tugging on the drawstring of her pants by the time Aram returned with both her dress and her jacket in hand. 'Is that everything?' He asked cautiously, his anxious eyes meeting hers. Samar took the dress, pulling it over her head in a flash without a word of response, before finally pausing over her jacket. Her fingertips brushed over his as she took it from him, and she glanced up, desperately trying to give some kind of tiny, reassuring smile.  
'I think that's everything,' she murmured, nodding slowly. Aram shot her a guilty smile of his own, swinging the jacket around her shoulders for her.  
'Ok,' he whispered back, 'come on.' With another short nod, and grabbing his robe from the hook on the wall as he moved, Aram darted back out of the room, Samar quick on his heels all the way to the door that led out into the back garden. Samar paused at the door, turning back for just one second longer and lingering there, neither of them really wanting for her to have to leave.  
'I think I know what I forgot,' she breathed. Aram's brow furrowed in that quizzical, confused fashion she adored so much, and she rested one gentle palm against his cheek. She stared back at him for a second, grinning softly at his sleep messed hair that poked out wildly in all kinds of directions, and the robe hanging wonky on his frame in the hurry to get to the door. 'This,' she whispered again. Samar leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Finally she pulled away again, then turned and hurried back across the garden to the fence. Aram followed, staying just a few steps behind, to make sure that she slipped back through the gap easily enough, and that the plank fell back into place behind her. He watched her disappear from view entirely, desperately trying to hold on to all sensation of her bare skin against his.

On the other side of the fence, Samar took a deep breath once she reached the back door of her own house. Her hand hovered over the door handle, and she wished she hadn't had to rush away so quickly. Samar took another breath, steeling herself and reminding herself that she would see Aram at work again in a day or so –if not sooner at the hole in the fence... But it was no use. Her stomach churned with a combination of nervousness to open the door, and a longing to turn around and run straight back again. Another breath and teeth gritted... And she finally pushed the door open and slipped quietly back into the house.

The living room and kitchen were both empty. Samar darted straight across, and headed down the hallway towards her bedroom.

'Where have you been?' Shahin's quiet voice from behind her, made Samar freeze in her tracks. She turned on the spot, noting him standing there in the doorway to his own room at the other end of the hallway.  
'In the garden,' she quickly replied, nodding for emphasis.  
'All morning?' Again, his voice was quiet, flat, and difficult to read. His eyes glanced Samar up and down, studying the expression of forced calm on her face as she nodded again; 'in the same clothes you wore yesterday?'  
'I woke up early before you did...' Samar began slowly, keeping her voice as measured and casual as she could; 'I didn't want to wake you with the noise of the shower, so I just put on yesterday's clothes again before going outside.'

Silence fell between them for a moment. Shahin stared back at her, his expression morphing slowly into one of disappointment and hurt.

'You were out last night,' he murmured flatly –not a question but rather, an observation. He shook his head in frustration, then moved to brush past her towards the bathroom.  
'Shahin-' Samar tried to grasp his hand and stop him marching past, but Shahin only shook her away.  
'-I thought we _told_ each other things, Samar,' he growled, cutting her off. The volume of his voice rose, though not in anger. More than anything he was hurt.  
'We do-'  
'-Then where were you all night?' He stared back at her as she struggled to answer, his eyes feeling like lasers boring into her skull... Until he shook his head again, and stormed past her.  
' _Shahin_ ,' Samar pleaded with him, grasping his arm again, 'wait.' Shahin turned on the spot, shaking his head as he stared back at her.

'You came in from the backyard,' he growled again, 'that doesn't allow you access to many places away from home.' A breath caught in Samar's throat as he spoke; 'I'm not stupid, Samar,' he added. 'You were with Aram, weren't you?' Samar hesitated before responding, her mouth opening slightly and then quickly closing again as she debated with herself what to say. She couldn't tell him the truth; she needed him to have the plausible deniability of her not confirming his suspicions, for him to be safe and not be accidentally pulled into the whole mess. She stared back at him anxiously, her eyes begging him not to speak a word of his suspicions, and desperately wishing that he could know how badly she wanted to protect him from the truth... But she didn't know how to say it. Shahin shook his head again, taking her hesitation and silence as denial, and then scowling as he spoke again. 'Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Like I said, I'm not stupid, Samar,' he muttered flatly, his voice dripping with disappointment; 'I'm annoyed, but I don't want to see you killed for whatever crazy thing you've got yourself into.' And with that, he wrenched his arm from hers for the last time, and marched wordlessly on towards the bathroom.

The tears stung in Samar's eyes as she watched him storm away from her. She was furious at herself for the fact that it had come to this; that she so desperately wanted to still be back on the other side of that fence, curled peacefully against Aram's side, but at the same time, it could come at the cost of the brother she loved so dearly.

/*/*/*/*

For the next couple of hours, the only words exchanged between Samar and Shahin were small talk, the few words necessary to go about their daily routines in the same house together. Samar wandered briefly out to the front garden to check the letterbox... Only to pause when she turned and faced the opposite direction to walk back inside. Just off to the side of the doorstep, the space that Samar didn't even glance at in passing the first time, was a small bunch of flowers; a handful of red roses from the climbing rosebushes that spanned the front fence, interspersed with sprigs of jasmine, and tied together clumsily with a wonky string bow. The tiniest ghost of a smile tugged at Samar's lips, and she laughed softly to herself as she picked it up off the ground; it certainly wasn't the neatest little bouquet –a trained florist, Aram most certainly was not- but it was sweet all the same... And given the uneasy quiet with Shahin inside, it was just enough of a gesture to start to ease the unsettled feeling that was steadily sinking itself into a deeper and deeper pit in her stomach.

Samar held the flowers close to her side as she ambled cautiously back inside, but Shahin had retreated to his room again and didn't notice a thing. Samar took down a small vase from one of the kitchen cupboards, added a splash of water and the flowers, then carried the lot back to her own room, where she set it carefully on the nightstand. Next she curled up on her bed with her book, smiling softly every time she peeked over the cover to spied the flowers still sitting there. Every time she glanced at them, she couldn't help but think back to the night before... Where she had been so happily caught up in the moment, she had allowed herself –just for a moment- to forget about the fear of anyone finding out.

That was the happiness she wanted back... Not uncomfortable silence of her and Shahin hiding from each other at opposite ends of a hallway until their parents returned home.

Samar gritted her teeth, finally giving up on her book and tossing down beside her on the bed. She jumped to her feet again, and marched straight down the hallway.

'Shahin?' She began, quiet but still to the point as she knocked on his half-open door.  
'What?' He simply sighed in response, not even raising his eyes from his drawing to meet hers. Samar took a breath, steeling herself.  
'I'm sorry,' she said simply. Finally, Shahin looked up, raising one eyebrow in surprise.  
'Since when do we ever say sorry to each other?' He asked quietly, 'I thought we always just fumed silently for an hour or so, before giving up and forgiving each other instead.' Samar's gaze dropped to the floor in guilty contemplation for a moment.  
'I wasn't sure if that applied today,' she murmured, biting her lip.  
'I'm still annoyed.' Shahin stared straight back at her, not dropping his gaze for a single second as his frustrated voice hit home. 'I might be still just a kid, while you two are adults now... But you're still my sister, and Aram is still my friend, and I feel like I never see either of you anymore. I get it, you're both busy with running that bookstore, but...' Shahin shook his head, railing off and letting out a reluctant sigh instead, unsure what else to really say. He sat there, cross-legged on his bed, leaning over his drawing pad and scattered collection of pencils sharpened to all kinds of different lengths over time. Warily, Samar moved those few steps further across the room towards him, taking a tentative peek at his latest creation as she sat right on the edge of the bed. So far it appeared to be two people –or rather, the page was filled by their shoulders and faces. The one on the right of the landscape page was still just a rough outline that faced the left –with only adoring eyes drawn in detail- but the face on the left had clear, delicate features that smiled warmly back at the one on the right... Features, that were all too familiar.

'You're drawing Maman?' Samar asked softly, staring at the beginning stages of dark curls being drawn, framing the face on the left.  
'And Father,' Shahin nodded slowly, tapping the face on the right with the end of his pencil to indicate the other familiar pair of eyes.  
'It's good.' Samar didn't even need to lift her eyes from the picture for her words to make their point. Just her earnest voice made its point; Shahin had a certain talent for drawing, but he didn't often draw full pictures in such detail unless he was stressed or trying to procrastinate from his homework. The picture in front of him now was one of the most elaborate Samar had ever seen him draw. It showed their parents, side by side, with their mother's head turned ever so slightly to glance over her shoulder at their father while she smiled and laughed, and their father watching on happily... With his eyes crinkled in that adoring way they always did when he stared at her. It was a common sight in their home, one that both Samar and Shahin always loved to see.  
'Aram looks at you like that too, you know,' Shahin said quietly. He tilted his head, pausing thoughtfully for a moment as he glanced at the picture again. 'I don't know if you see it, but he does. He has for a long time.' Samar shifted her gaze from the picture back to her brother, her brow furrowed curiously.  
'...But?'  
'But... Now you look at him like that as well.' Another breath caught in Samar's throat as she wondered, not only how or when Shahin had noticed such a thing, but also what it meant. 'Whatever it is that you've got yourself into... You know what you're doing, right?' Now it was Shahin's turn to plead with her. Samar hesitated before responding;  
'Shahin... I want to be able to tell you the truth, but-'  
'-You can't,' Shahin finished quickly for her. 'I know that face too. It's frustrating.' He paused, eyeing his sister with one eyebrow raised in suspicion and determination; 'just know, if Aram hurts you... I will kill him.' Samar couldn't help but instantly let out a wry smile.  
'Not if Father or I get to him first,' she mused. Shahin pulled a face in response –one, of mock horror and offense. In a flash he reached behind himself, fingers curling quickly around his pillow before flinging straight into her shoulder. Samar gasped, hurriedly scanning the room for anything else soft that she could fling back at him in retaliation... But Shahin already had the upper hand –he whacked the pillow against once more against her arm as he teasingly replied;  
'I'll race you both.'

/*/*/*/*

The atmosphere in the house was far calmer and far more upbeat after that. It was well after lunch time by the time Samar and Shahin's parents returned home, but by that point the two of them were far more content to go about their own, usual routines about the house, without feeling the discomfort of conflict. Samar was back in her room, still taking the occasional, wistful glance at the flowers in the vase on her nightstand over her book when her mother finally poked her head around the door, calling her to help with the dishes.

'Where did those come from?' Nasrin's soft, curious voice jolted Samar's concentration from her book. She glanced up, eyeing her mother's almost amused gesture at the little bouquet on the nightstand.  
'I picked the roses from the front fence this morning,' Samar replied quickly. It didn't answer the question entirely, but at least her words were plausible; the rose bushes after all, climbed _both_ sides of the front fence. Regardless, her mother wasn't so easily fooled.  
'...And the jasmine?' She mused. Samar's eyes snapped warily to her mother's –the latter crinkled all too knowingly.  
'I asked Aram for some.'  
'You asked him... For flowers?' Samar paused before responding, thinking carefully about her words.  
'At work the other day I asked him,' she said slowly, cautiously; 'he was talking about his mother's garden, and you know I love the smell of jasmine, so... I asked if he wouldn't mind clipping some for me.' Samar gave a nonchalant shrug, both an act to deny her mother's suspicions, and to try and shake the feeling of being far too close to the edge, from her shoulders. She glanced back down at the book in her hands. 'He left it on the doorstep this morning,' she murmured, turning a page as if to signal the end of the matter. Nasrin gave a wry smile, her daughter's point made more than clearly enough. She turned on her heels, still smiling in amusement to herself, but without another word as she left the room and continued on down the hallway towards her son in turn.

It took all of three seconds after her mother left the room, before another soft smile lit up Samar's face as she glanced at the flowers over her book once more.

Back on Aram's side of the fence, where he sat outside by the back door to his garden, he stared absentmindedly at the long, messy vines of jasmine that spanned the length of the fence opposite the one with the hole... And the very same smile crossed his face too.

* * *

Next up; the ending that goes straight back to the beginning, in 'The Dilemma'.


	9. The Dilemma

_**1999**_

The new year came and went, though the fanfare compared little to the private joy shared solely between Samar and Aram. Any private moment they could get between the festivities, and the sorting through the last few things at the store before it could close for a week off, was made the most of –not that there were many of them. A simple, knowing kiss on the cheek in passing when nobody was looking, or a more passionate one in the back room with hands and clothes flying everywhere –no matter what sort of moment they managed to find, it was a thrill.

Any moment other than that however, was far less of a thrill.

At home, Samar was growing more and more conscious of the money she had made in the months since starting to work in Aram's store. While it felt like time had flown, with her focus having shifted to Aram from the desire to leave, there was no denying the fact that in that time, as well as her feelings for Aram having grown immensely, she had made more than enough to leave as originally planned.

And that was precisely the dilemma.

Now Samar was expected to leave as she had once sworn she would so vehemently, but at the same time, now she knew... She really didn't want to leave Aram behind. She had been kidding herself, trying to shake the dilemma from her mind and telling herself that until she had the money, she didn't have to worry about any of it. At the time, the possibility of leaving had felt so far away... Until all of a sudden, it became reality all too quickly. And in that time, she had grown far closer to Aram than she ever could have expected. After years of talking at the fence, of sharing books, and notes, and baked treats... Samar had fallen as completely in love with Aram as he was with her from the first moment he ever saw her. But of course, staying there with him was not at all so simple. Changing her mind about leaving would raise eyebrows. Questions would start to be asked... Questions, that Samar couldn't answer truthfully to explain her sudden desire to stay, because it would mean admitting what she and Aram had been doing all along.

Samar sat at the little desk on opposite side of her room from her bed, head in her hands as she tried to think of every possible option. She didn't know what to do; staying meant putting Aram in danger, but leaving him behind meant breaking both their hearts. No possibility she could think of, seemed to work, and she hated the idea of having to make a decision between the rest. It felt like the dilemma was going to tear her into a million and one tiny pieces but no matter how much it hurt, she was certain... The safest option for Aram was if she left as planned –whether she wanted to or not.

With a miserable sigh, she rose from her desk and ambled towards the kitchen. She forced a casual smile, hoping that neither her parents nor her brother would figure out the dilemma playing out in her mind. A sudden, unexpected sound caught Samar's attention from the refrigerator, and pulled her towards the window. It was a familiar sound in that she knew what it was –the sound of a car pulling up at another house on the street- but it was unfamiliar in that it was happening right then and there. The view of Aram's house wasn't great from the kitchen window, but it was enough; there was a car, pulled up right outside his front fence. A man, older and well-dressed, marched towards the front door from the car, with a younger woman trailing nervously behind. She was far younger than the man who led her across the front garden of Aram's parent's home... But she was easily about the same age as Samar.

Samar instantly recoiled from the window, knowing exactly what that kind of surprise visit meant.

Fighting back the tears that now sprung to her eyes, stinging them painfully, Samar darted straight back through her house towards her bedroom and slamming the door behind her.

It was too late.

/*/*/*/*

On the other side of the fence, Aram felt a pit instantly dig itself into the depths of his stomach. He watched the older man and the younger woman follow his father quietly into his office after being greeted at the front door. He was all too familiar with those kinds of surprise visit scenarios... Though normally they dug such an anxious pit in his stomach because they happened on the opposite side of the fence.

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1996**_

'Tell me it's not true,' Aram's shaky, fearful voice greeted Samar at the fence. There was no 'hello', no 'how are you', just that single, terrified question. He hadn't seen her at the fence much at all in the last few weeks; men had come and gone from her house –Aram had seen them crossing her front garden- to meet with her father, and offer their sons for her hand. They all knew it would happen at some point, but that future point always seemed like it would never happen, when it was never given a specific date or time. But now it was actually happening, Aram was panicking. 'Tell me you're not being sent away.'  
'Aram-' Samar raised a gentle hand to the fence, her voice soft and quiet in an effort to reassure him even when she too, was rattled by the new development.  
'- _Three_ times this week I saw them, Samar,' he spoke over her, not even trying to hide his own fear. Previous weeks had seen only one, perhaps two at the most, surprise visitors turn up in any given week. That was worrisome enough, without adding the fact that Samar stayed inside the house whenever it happened, rather than sit outside in the garden, so that she could listen in on the heated conversations had in her father's office. Three times in one week meant that not only were Aram's fears rising, but he had barely seen Samar at all to have the opportunity to check that she wasn't about to be torn away from him.  
'I'm not going anywhere,' she murmured softly through the hole in the fence, 'my father turned down every single one of them.' Aram studied that cautious, determined expression on her face. His breathing slowed to calm as she held his gaze.  
'Are you sure?'  
'Yes.'

/*/*/*/*

 _ **1999**_

Aram paced back and forth across his living room for what felt like an eternity until he saw his father re-emerge from his office, leading the older man and younger woman back to the front door. He waited, quietly and anxiously, until the front door closed behind them... And then he pounced.

'Father, tell me you didn't-' Aram began, the moment his father turned back from the front door to face him again.  
'-Aram-' Naveed tried to interject, but Aram cut him off.  
'-No,' he insisted. Aram's eyes were wild, his fingers curled into tight, anxious fists by his sides without even realising it. There were few things that would push him to such a point, but this was one; anything that even vaguely meant pulling him and Samar apart. 'I'm not going to marry some girl I don't know, and you can't force me.'  
'She seems a very sweet, young woman-' his father spoke softly.  
'-Father-' Aram sighed, only this time his father didn't allow him to interject.  
'-But I declined her father's offer,' Naveed finished. Aram blinked for a second, processing what that meant.  
'Oh,' he mumbled. Silence fell between them for a moment; Aram's fists relaxed, his fingers uncurling and the tension easing from his shoulders. Instead, he bit his lip, his eyes falling to stare miserably at the floor.

'Is there something you want to tell me?' Naveed asked gently, finally breaking the silence. There was a soft smile on his face; he knew exactly why Aram was so vehemently against the idea of an arranged marriage to a woman he didn't know, when he was otherwise usually so softly spoken, and that was precisely why Naveed turned down every offer, time and time again. But, the feigned ignorance had gone on long enough. If Aram was to ever have what he really wanted, a point had to come where he admitted the truth. Naveed waited quietly, watching his son shift anxiously back and forth on his feet, contemplating that very idea. Aram let out a sigh; he knew the dilemma that was undoubtedly running through Samar's head next door. After all, he was the one who paid her wages. He knew exactly how much she had earned by now... And what a critical time it was for both of them. They had launched into work and then their relationship without once pausing to seriously consider the consequences... But now those consequences were reality. Aram shifted his gaze back up from the floor, reluctantly meeting his father's eye. It was time. He took a deep breath before responding;  
'Well, actually...'

/*/*/*/*

Aram couldn't help but absent-mindedly wring his hands as he followed his father from their home, around the fence, and up the two front steps to Samar's front door. The anxiety swirled rapidly around in his brain, to the point where he almost didn't even notice his father's quick knock. The door opened barely seconds later, with Samar's father appearing behind it.

'Naveed?' He curiously greeted them.  
'Arash.' Aram's father nodded back. The tiniest of amused grins tugged at the corner of his lips, despite all attempts for his son's benefit, to feign seriousness. Arash glanced back and forth between the smile on his old friend's face, and Aram's eyes flickering nervously between the door and his feet. It wasn't hard to guess why they had turned up so suddenly.  
'Something you want to discuss, my friend?' Arash mused softly, a small smile now fighting against his own attempts to remain serious for Aram's benefit.  
'I think your office might be a good place for it.' Naveed nodded again. Arash stepped back, holding the door open for the two of them to follow him inside.  
'Then by all means, come on in.'

The only thing Aram noticed beyond his nervousness as they walked inside Samar's home, was that she was nowhere to be seen. Her mother, Nasrin, sat in the living room, embroidering colourful flowers onto what appeared to be a new dress. Shahin sat not far from her, doodling on his drawing pad. He looked up as Aram entered the room, and then quickly jumped up from his seat –his face now bearing an expression of absolute thunder.

' _What_ did you do to her?' Shahin bellowed, tossing his pages down on the seat and charging straight for Aram.  
'What?' Aram's eyes went wide, utterly stunned by Shahin's anger. His hands raised instinctively in the gesture of surrender, not that it stopped Shahin in the slightest.  
'Shahin-' Arash spoke up, trying to stop him.  
'-My sister is in her room, _crying_ ,' Shahin yelled, 'all because of _you_.' Aram froze, like a deer caught in headlights.  
'Wait, what?' He asked again. If he hadn't been confused already, he definitely was now. Shahin simply rolled his eyes.  
'You think you can just string her along like that for months, and then drop her for some other girl?' He spat. Aram winced as he understood exactly what had happened; Samar had seen the arrival of his surprise visitors, assumed the worst, and after the moments they had shared of late, she had naturally felt betrayed. Shahin's fingers curled into fists before Aram could even respond, grabbing him by the front of the shirt.  
' _H-hey_ -' Aram tried to protest.  
'-Shahin, that's _enough_ ,' Arash's voice boomed over him. He glowered at his son, staring him down until Shahin finally let go –albeit unapologetically. Shahin sank back into his seat, though not without shooting Aram yet another filthy glare.

/*/*/*/*

Aram, Arash, and Naveed disappeared into the office for their discussion. Aram's heart pounded in his chest. This was it; his and Samar's respective fathers debating and negotiating the possibility of uniting their families beyond anything else before... Of Aram not only taking Samar's hand, but him also doing what wasn't necessarily tradition where they lived, and asking her if that was what she wanted, rather than simply having their parents make all the decisions for them.

It felt like an eternity but finally, Arash rose from his seat. He offered a short nod to Aram and Naveed, before wordlessly disappearing from the room.

Arash moved through his house towards his daughter's room, not ambling casually as he normally would, but with a purpose. He paused before knocking on the closed door; Samar had shut herself in there a while ago now, and hadn't re-emerged once. He could hear movement inside, and not necessarily the calm kind.  
'Samar, sweetheart,' Arash murmured, knocking softly on the door, and pausing for a few seconds before gently pushing it open. 'Aram is here to speak to you about something.'  
'I don't want to talk to him,' Samar muttered back. Arash gazed around the room; bags, clothes, books and all kinds of other personal possessions were scattered everywhere, flung across the space in the combination of a packing frenzy, and her frustration. Not only had she decided for sure that she was going to leave, but in the wake of the betrayal she was feeling, it had to be immediate. Samar shook her head in annoyance at the pile of belongings in front of her, trying to figure out what to pack. She was furious, hurt beyond anything she could have thought possible; she had allowed herself to grow close to Aram, given herself to him, and even though they had both thought she was going to leave at some point, he hadn't even had the courtesy to wait for her to go before confirming his engagement to another woman. Arash furrowed his brow in sympathy at the sight of his daughter barely holding herself together at the assumption she had made in error. He reached out, gently resting his hand on her flailing arm and stopping the flinging of yet another item of clothing halfway across the room.

'It's important,' he said softly.  
'I'm packing,' Samar mumbled back, still not meeting his eye, though she did allow her arms to fall still. She glanced up at her father, her eyes red and puffy from the tears, pleading with her eyes for him not to make her leave the room and speak to Aram... But this was one moment where Arash knew better, and had to make the decision for her.  
'I can see that.' Arash offered her a gentle, reassuring smile. 'But you can finish that later. Come on.' He stepped just to the side, gesturing towards the door for her to follow him back to his office. With a disgruntled frown and yet another frustrated sigh, Samar relented.

/*/*/*/*

Aram leapt from his seat in Arash's office, the moment Samar appeared in the doorway, her father just one step behind him. Aram winced at her furious expression –clearly, Arash had figured that correcting her incorrect assumption was better left to him. Arash gave a silent nod, the signal to Naveed to leave the small office with him, and leave Samar and Aram to their own conversation. Naveed did so, moving in equal silence until Samar and Aram were left completely alone.

'Are you here to try and do me the courtesy of telling me face to face that you're getting married? That because I have to leave, you're just accepting the next offer that turns up at your doorstep?' Samar seethed.  
'No-' Aram began cautiously.  
'-Good,' Samar quickly cut him off. 'Because I don't want to hear about it.' Aram let out a disheartened sigh at the fierce scowl on her face; none of this was going the way he had hoped. He paused, taking a deep breath before responding quietly;  
'Samar, I'm not getting married.' Just like that, Samar faltered, her eyes widening slightly in confusion and surprise.  
' _What?'_ She began to splutter, 'but I saw-'  
'-My father said no,' Aram finished the train of thought for her.

Samar blinked as those words hit home; she had assumed that Aram had betrayed her, but he hadn't. Instead he was standing there in her father's office, trying not to look hurt by the idea that she could possibly think he would ever do such a thing.

'Then...' She slowly began to speak again. Something about that still didn't make sense. 'Why _are_ you here?'  
'Because...' Aram let out a bitter sigh. 'I can do the math too. I know the dilemma that's in your head, it's been bugging me for days too.' The anger had vanished entirely from Samar's face by now, instead replaced by the same misery that had plagued her before the misunderstanding –the misery of the choice between staying and risking their safety, or being forced to leave him behind.  
'I'm leaving, Aram,' she murmured, shaking her head, miserably. 'I have to. There's no way for me to stay.'

Finally, Aram broke into a soft smile. There was one more thing that she hadn't thought of.

He took a deep breath, almost in complete disbelief that this was happening... That after all the childhood conversations by the fence, he was about to ask her the question that had always felt destined to remain a fantasy. Now, he just had to find the right words.

'Samar...' Aram began softly, shifting anxiously back and forth on his feet. It felt as if his stomach was doing backflips, or some other kind of horrifying gymnastics that stomachs really were not supposed to do. He took another breath, steadying himself as he met her curious gaze; 'I have been madly in love with you ever since the first moment I saw you. You were busy dancing in the grass with Shahin and didn't even notice me climbing up the rosebushes to watch you, but-' Aram quickly shook his head, trying to stop his rambling '-that's beside the point.'  
'...Which is what, exactly?' A wistful smile began to cross her face, matching her gentle voice as she asked the question.  
'The last almost year has been...' Aram trailed off for a moment. His eyes wandered briefly to the floor, grinning almost guiltily as he thought back to all the moments shared in that time. 'Having you around all the time is the happiest I've ever been. I love you-' Aram's eyes crinkled in delight as he voiced the three words neither of them had ever dares to say outright before '-and I'm pretty sure you feel the same.' Aram paused again, taking those few steps across the room towards her, and taking each of her hands in his. 'So what I'm saying is...' Aram took yet another deep, nervous breath. 'Will you make me stay the happiest man on earth... And marry me?'

Samar's gaze dropped instantly back down. That was the question that only made her dilemma all the more painful. She stared miserably at Aram's fingers intertwined through hers, and his thumb running gentle circles against the back of her hand.

'But, Aram...' Tears stung in her eyes again –albeit this time for a completely different reason. 'I can't _stay_ here.'  
'No, you misunderstand,' he quickly interjected, his eyes pleading with her to listen. 'I'm not asking you to stay. I'm saying... What if I go with you?'

She paused, taking a short but sharp breath in as his words hit home.

A wave of emotions rushed over her; surprise, caution, fear and delight alike... But most of all, there was adoration.

'Are you sure?' She asked, her voice barely audible.

Aram instantly broke into a wide grin.  
'Absolutely,' he said, nodding adamantly. Samar stared back at him, almost stunned for a moment before she could reply;  
'Then yes,' she breathed. Samar took that one tiny half step further forward, closing all remaining gap between them. Her eyes crinkled in that delighted way Aram loved so much, and she leaned in... Pressing a deep kiss to his lips.

'Ahem.' The sound of Arash loudly clearing his throat caused them both to instantly spring apart. Aram's cheeked flushed pink in embarrassment, while Samar grinned guiltily at the floor. Both Arash and Naveed had re-entered the room or at the very least, they now stood back in the doorway once again. 'You're not married _yet,_ ' Arash observed, though there was clear amusement on both his and Naveed's faces that they were struggling to hide. After watching Samar and Aram trying for years to be discreet, and feigning ignorance to let them maintain their plausible deniability, there was a sense of almost relief at the proposal having finally happened.  
'But I guess...' Arash added, swapping amused glances with Naveed who in turn nodded his silent agreement. 'We can allow _some_ things while we make the arrangements.' Aram's arm slipped quickly back around Samar's waist, and she leaned her head contently against his shoulder, both of them still grinning in guilty delight.

Arash turned on the spot again, ready to lead the group out of the office, until he paused, glancing curiously back over his shoulder at his daughter.  
'Oh, and uh...' He shot Samar a wry smile. 'You might want to talk to Shahin.'  
'Why?' Samar asked, grin vanishing as her brow furrowed in confusion. Aram bit his lip, glancing awkwardly again at her still standing by his side.  
'Well...' He began, 'you weren't kidding when you said he might try to kill me.' Samar shook her head, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation. She tilted her head towards him again, dotting an affectionate kiss to Aram's cheek as she waggled her eyebrows and whispered mischievously;  
'Don't worry, I'll sort him out.'

And with that, hand in hand, they walked out of the office and back out into the living room, where Shahin and all their respective parents were waiting for them...

...It was time to start the next adventure.


End file.
